


Egotism and Enmity

by originella



Category: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Victoria (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Baroness Lehzen bashing, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Infidelity, John Conroy bashing, Lies, Loving Marriage, M/M, Original Slash, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Royalty, Secrets, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originella/pseuds/originella
Summary: Felicity Darcy is the youngest child of Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy. When her father, a former war hero, is called upon by Sir John Conroy to produce one of his daughters for the household of Princess Alexandrina Victoria, the Darcy family jumps at the opportunity. Soon, Felicity realizes that London is a much larger place than she ever thought, and her heart shall too break.





	1. A Journey to Kensington Palace

I was born the last child and sixth daughter of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and his lady wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. I was christened Felicity for the Saint of Rome and Elizabeth for my doting mother. I couldn’t have understood the plans my mother and father had for me at birth, and was content to babble for months on end. When the babbling ceased, the sentences came, as did the constant stumbling in an effort to walk properly. Once Mama no longer had me in her endless keeping, I would follow my brothers and sisters around the manor, and, some more than others, delighted in me.

Fitzwilliam, Charles, Jane, Mary, George, Adelaide, Charlotte, Henry, and Augusta would either play with me at the best of times or wave me off at the worst of times, and I would soon learn—or attempt to—to look out for their attitudes whenever I found myself in their midst. Fitzwilliam was already married when I was born, and Charles had found himself engaged the summer before. Fitzwilliam had married our cousin Alexandra Bingley, and they themselves had three daughters—Honor, Grace, and Mercy. Charles was to be married to Caroline Wickham, another one of our cousins, and though Mama and Papa weren’t fond of the match, they knew that Charles loved Caroline more than life itself, and needed to marry her.

My childhood was spent in the idyllic country manor of my father, Pemberley, which I was told from babyhood would go to my eldest brother Fitzwilliam and his family upon our father’s death. Such a thing seemed so far in the distant future that I did not put much thought into it. It was when, after my sixteenth birthday, however, Mama and Papa were discussing a young princess, just my age, that my interests and hearing suddenly improved. Who else would go to serve her but me, for I’d no marriage prospects then and the princess and I were of the same age. Of course, I knew our breeding was as different as could be—while she could inherit the English throne, and I was merely the youngest child of a wealthy man, I felt a hope for my future that I’d never even dared myself to consider.

Mama and Papa proposed the idea to me that Christmas, and I was eager to accept, although I did so with civility and grace. The young princess was called Alexandrina, they told me, and such a name sounded so lyrical and lovely that I was positive it had to belong to a princess. They informed me that Princess Alexandrina was housed at Kensington Palace with her mother, the Duchess of Kent, under strict rule of a man named Sir John Conroy. Something within me shifted upon hearing that name, and I immediately made up my mind to dislike this roguish-sounding man. 

Mama and Papa corresponded with the king himself, who normally didn’t want his niece interacting with someone who was not of royal blood, but quickly made an exception for me. However, a dark shadow passed over my parents’ faces in shock upon his next letter, whereupon I was called in to see them immediately. They did not speak for a period, almost as if the pair of them were attempting to gather their thoughts and weren’t managing to do so.

“Is something the matter?” I said at last, not wishing to speak out of turn, but hoping beyond hope that I was still permitted to serve the princess. I was nearing my seventeenth birthday and I knew that the age of majority would soon follow, and I should be privy to knowledge about me, I decided. “Have I done something to offend either of you?”

My father sighs, getting to his feet and pulling me into his arms for a brief period before finally letting me go. “We told you of King William’s dislike for non-royals being in contact with his niece?”

“Yes, and I firmly agree with you that it is utter rubbish,” I reply.

Mama covers her mouth, stifling a laugh. “He is our king, Felicity, and, despite the fact that we may not agree with his reasoning, we must respect him.”

“Anyhow, the king has decided that it would be appropriate for you to have a title, so as you serving his niece would be seen as suitable in his eyes,” Papa continues at his leisure.

“A title?” I breathe, shocked beyond words. “I don’t understand...”

Papa smiles. “King William is prepared to make your mother and I a generous allowance as befits the Viscount and Viscountess Pemberley,” he tells me in his patient, even manner. “That would make Fitzwilliam Lord Pemberley, and the rest of you lords and ladies.”

“You would be known as Lady Felicity Darcy,” Mama tells me quickly. “That way, you would get a far more advantageous match, although your father and I still encourage that you marry for love.”

“It is just as well, for our family would be a step higher than that governess of hers,” Papa says, his voice nearly a hiss. “A German she is, but a good, fine lady she is not. Constantly with the princess, whispering a bit of poison in her ear when she should be listening to the duchess and to Sir John.” 

“You know Sir John Conroy, Papa?” I ask.

“Intimately,” Papa replies, “to be sure. We served in the army together. He can be a bit rough around the edges, but is fiercely loyal to those who know him.”

“And that is how my place in the princess’ household materialized,” I guess aloud, rolling on the backs of my slippered feet upon the fine carpet of the drawing room at Pemberley. “So... When is the journey to begin?”

. . .

My journey was delayed for another few months, so much so that I passed my seventeenth birthday in the process. I was told to perfect various ladies’ arts, including painting and needlework; another thing that I was made proficient in was singing and dancing, of which the young princess excelled in. One thing that did not require as much tutelage was languages, as I found they came quite naturally to me from a young age. By the time I was due to leave for Kensington Palace at the age of seventeen years and three months, I’d mastered, in addition to my native tongue, French, Italian, German, and Latin. I’d soon been told that the young princess spoke these languages as well, and although I supposed that she would be shocked, I did hope she would find me somewhat impressive.

It was on the occasion of a week before I was due to leave for Kensington Palace that I received a letter from young Princess Alexandrina. My mother, mercifully, left me alone to read it, although I was positive that she was to tell my father of my important correspondence. I took the sharp letter opener, heavy in my hand, and delicately sliced open the envelope, praying that my hands weren’t shaking. At last, I lifted the parchment upwards and caught a glimpse of the looped and perfectly accurate handwriting.

_My dear Lady Felicity,_

_It is an honor to finally put pen to paper before our initial meeting, of which I am quite looking forward to. I know of your father’s friendship to Sir John Conroy, and while I find my opinions differ greatly from his, I fully understand that you were not raised under his influence. It is quite a pity that his daughter, Miss V. Conroy, was employed as a spy to watch over me, but I should hope that this is not the case for you. _

_Baroness Lehzen and I are quite looking forward to meeting you. You shall have fine apartments in Kensington Palace. You shall be quite lucky in that you are permitted to have your own rooms. I have heard of your mastery of French, German, Italian, and Latin, so it will be wonderful to speak in such a way about the house. _

_I look forward to your arrival. _

_Please, don’t write before you come—it is difficult enough to smuggle letters out, and I know that Sir John Conroy and my mother will likely read what you have written me. _

_See you quite soon._

_Faithfully,_

_Princess Alexandrina Victoria_

. . .

Papa accompanied me to Kensington Palace the following week, and I knew that Mama was quite sorry to see me go. Fitzwilliam and Charles, along with their wives, were able to send their good wishes, while the rest of my siblings now had homes of their own, all over England, and could not. As we got into the carriage with the royal seal emblem on the side, I waved off Mama one last time, forcing the tears out and away from my eyes as I situated myself comfortably. As we set off from Pemberley, Papa smiled at me and handed over a hat box, which had been clandestinely given to him by Mama as they’d bidden farewell.

“Because the Duchess of Kent is so fond of hats?” I joked, and it was then that I heard a rustle and a slight whimper from within. “Wait a moment... Hats don’t cry out!” I said, and unclipped the buckle on the side of the thing and opened it, a small, furred spaniel popping up immediately, and rewarding me with a wagging tail and an eager expression. “Papa!” I cried out.

“The young princess is quite fond of her spaniel, Dash,” Papa replied with a quick smile. “I thought it right, as her newest companion, to have your very own little friend to keep by your side.” He watched with delight as I lifted the little thing out of the box. “I’ve been told it’s a girl.”

“Then I shall call her Flight,” I say with pure, unadulterated delight. “Since the young princess calls her dog ‘Dashy’, I shall call mine ‘Flighty’. What a pair they shall make, running about the halls...”

“I suspect the young princess will approve,” Papa says with an indulgent smile as he takes the hat box away, permitting Flighty to settle onto my lap. “That little one will need fattening up, but I’m sure Kensington Palace shall know what is appropriate to give her.”

The carriage ride lasts for four hours and soon, just as twilight has begun to settle in, we arrive on the grounds of Kensington. Papa will only stay briefly, to greet Sir John Conroy and to be sure that I am settled, and then he shall return to Pemberley as quickly as possible. The carriage stops before the front doors and a manservant steps forward to let us out; I keep a grip upon Flighty as Papa gets to his feet without much assistance and steps out, reaching up for my hand. I take it and am lifted down, looking up and all around me, the impressive doors of the palace slightly open, and a formidable man standing just beside them, which I instinctively know is Sir John Conroy. I immediately pull Flighty closer, fear ebbing through me, at the first sight of this frightening man.

“John!” Papa calls, and Sir John Conroy immediately smiles at my father and springs into action, approaching Papa at once and shaking his hand with eager anticipation. “Old friend,” Papa says warmly.

“Always a pleasure, Fitzwilliam,” Sir John replies with equal warmth before turning to look at me with cool eyes. “Ah, yes. This must be your lovely daughter Lady Felicity,” he says, reaching for my hand and bowing ever so slightly over it and catching a glimpse of one of the fine rings I wore. “A pleasure.”

I feel ill as he snatches up my hand in his own and kisses it, and find I am thankful for the gloves and kneel in a respectful curtsy. “Sir John, an honor.”

“Viscount, eh?” Sir John asks, dropping my hand and turning to Papa as a shadow fills the doorway, and a slight woman with dark hair is staring at me. Sir John must hear something for he turns around then and spots the woman. “Ah, baroness. Here to fetch Lady Felicity?”

“Those were my orders, Sir John,” she says, fighting to keep the contempt from her voice, her dark eyes sliding back to me.

“Fine, fine,” he says, growing impatient. “Have the servants been sent to collect her trunks and things?”

Baroness Lehzen smiles tightly; she hates this man. She moves to the side as several servants come outside and towards the carriage, ready to collect my things in a rushed manner. “Lady Felicity, I will take you to the princess.”

I give her a curtsy. “I thank you, baroness,” I reply with a small smile, before turning to look at Papa. “I shall see you soon?” I ask as his eyes turn to me, and I sense that Conroy’s mannerisms have already drifted to him.

“Yes,” he replies coolly, leaning down and brushing his lips on my forehead without much feeling. “Go along, then.”

“Very well, Papa,” I reply, hiding my tears and walking towards the doors, where the baroness is awaiting me.

“Don’t cry,” the baroness orders me firmly, steeling a final glance at my father and Conroy. “It gives them power over you, and we cannot have that.”

I quickly dash the tears from my eyes. “Course not,” I reply, following her. “We can’t have that.”

The entryway to Kensington is long and understated, and we make our way up the stairs and towards what I assume is a sitting room, which had its doors open to the world. There is a slight yelp of a bark coming from within, followed by quick yet gentle admonishing, while Flighty begins to struggle in my arms, eager to see what all the fuss was about. The baroness leads the way into the room, where the young princess is playing with Dash and who can only be the Duchess of Kent is looking over a magazine. There are three women in the room, and none even looks upon me as the baroness advances into the room, nor do I expect them to, nor do I particularly want them to.

“What do you think of this one, Lady Flora?” the duchess asks the woman sitting beside her. “Are the feathers too much?”

Lady Flora peeks into the magazine that the duchess is holding and considers it for a moment. “I should think the black ones are better, versus the cream,” she replies rather diplomatically. “The cream would dull your skin, whereas the black would accentuate it.”

“Your Royal Highness, my lady duchess, Lady Flora,” Baroness Lehzen says, and sweeps an immaculate curtsy as the young princess turns to look at us for the first time in awe. “Forgive me, but Lady Felicity Darcy, daughter of the Viscount and Viscountess Darcy, has arrived.”

“A new title,” Lady Flora sneers disparagingly.

“Yes, Drina—how do we know she can be trusted?”

“She is English, Mama, and of good breeding, or so I’ve been told,” the princess replies tempestuously, smiling at Lehzen before turning to look at me. “Oh! You have a little dog!” she cries, immediately coming to my side and greeting her with delight. “Hello, there! What’s she called?” she asks, looking up at me, her silver eyes far paler than her skin.

“This is Flight,” I reply. “Flighty when she is well behaved, I suppose, Your Royal Highness,” I tell her.

“Was he a farewell gift from your father?” she asks, raising her eyes to mine and scooping up Dash, so as Dash and Flight are nose-to-nose and enraptured in one another. “I suppose it cannot be easy, leaving home for the first time.”

“She is your age, Drina—one must sometimes leave one’s home to reach greatness and that greatness is you,” the duchess says plaintively.

“I am hardly great yet, Mama—merely a penniless heir to the English throne with no real power, surrounded by people I don’t like...” The young princess quickly banishes the petulance from her face as our eyes meet again. “Are you quite fond of dolls, Lady Felicity?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply. “Quite. I brought some of mine with me...”

“I’ve over a hundred and fifty of them myself,” the princess confesses with a short little laugh reminiscent of a sunbeam. “How many were you able to bring, Lady Felicity?”

“Oh, five, if that,” I reply, waving it away. “Mama would not allow my suitcases and trunks to be heavied down with something she deemed to be so unimportant, I’m afraid, ma’am.” I stroke Flight’s ears, watching as the princess does the same to Dash. “I find that most of my belongings are full of my notebooks and diaries that Mama was so tempted to read them. I may be the youngest child in my family, ma’am, but even I do wish for some privacy from my younger siblings...”

“Diaries?” Princess Alexandrina asks, interested. “However did you manage to keep them hidden? Is Pemberley a large place?”

I shrug, hating the notion that I was unaware of something. “Perhaps the same as Kensington—I would not know, I’m afraid, ma’am. But to answer your question, I found that simply hiding the diaries was not enough.”

“What did you do next?” she asks, soothing Dash.

“Wrote in another language, that only I could be bothered to speak, ma’am. My mother and father employed the best tutors they could afford, but I’m afraid that only I was able to take up languages seriously...”

“Languages?” the princess asked, a little too eagerly. “What can you speak then, Lady Felicity?”

“English, French, Italian, Latin, and German, ma’am,” I reply without hesitation or very much confidence. “I find languages relaxing. I was due to start Greek last year but the tutor employed by my father fell ill and left us, so my mother and father decided that five languages was quite enough...”

“Quite so,” the Duchess of Kent replied stoutly, causing me to lower my eyes in shame at the condemnation of her tone. “Can’t have very many noble maidens fluttering around spouting nonsense. Although it is good she can speak German, Drina—it will be beneficial to you when you are queen.”

“Of course, Mama,” the princess replied. She waited for the duchess and Lady Flora to resume talking again before she suddenly leaned forward and gripped at my wrist in an unexpected gesture. “Lehzen heard Sir John whispering yesterday that he intends to make you yet another one of his spies for me,” she tells me in hushed tones, in Italian. “I want you to swear your loyalty to me, Felicity, and then I want you to tell Conroy, when he asks it of you, that you will accept, but in reality, you shall be working for Lehzen and for me. Is that understood?” she asks, desperation hiding at the back of her tone.

Quickly, seeing no other way out of it, I nod. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply.

Princess Alexandrina smiled at me, relaxing her grip upon my hand then. “Thank you, Lady Felicity,” she says, and raises her voice again, resuming our discussion in English. “Mama, Lehzen and I are going to show Lady Felicity to her new rooms,” she then announced.

“Splendid,” the duchess replied, handing over her magazine to Lady Flora and getting to her feet. “We shall go together,” she decrees, roping her arm around her daughters’ amid the princess’ nonverbal protests. “Come along, Drina—it’s not polite to keep your latest companion waiting.” The duchess raises her eyes to mine and I see that there is nothing behind them. “Baroness, why don’t you lead Lady Felicity to her rooms?”

“Of course, my lady duchess,” Lehzen replies, turning about and walking out of the sitting room.

I immediately move to follow, keeping a good grip upon Flight as I go; I sense the duchess and the princess just behind me, and something tells me that Lady Flora is coming along as well. The rushes on the floor are patterned with flowers, yet are frightfully dirty from, I suspect, muddied footprints making contact with them. The wallpaper too is in dismal disarray, fraying in some places and peeling in others. It is an unfortunate place to live, I realize then, and find that the princess would likely be happier at Pemberley.

Lehzen opens the cream-colored doors at the end of the corridor, which boasts a generous amount of gilt-work, although the gilt is in sorry shape. It is stained from the sun and from age, and the door handles squeak most uncomfortably when Lehzen opens the doors for me. The sound bounces off my eardrum in a most unpleasant way, and both Dash and Flight squeal in discomfort. I know then that I was deliberately given these rooms not only for my close proximity to everything but also because of the doors. Conroy wanted to know when I was entering and leaving my rooms at all times, and the very notion made me ill.

The rushes in my new rooms were an improvement from the ones in the hallway, thank goodness, and the curtains were thick about the windows to keep the cool winter nights at bay. They have been washed recently, I see that now, as I step closer, and also see that the furniture has been dusted accordingly. There is a circular table in the center of the room, with three chairs, plus a generous fireplace, and abundant bookshelves built right into the walls. Many paintings cover the walls as well, and I detect Holbein, Titan, and da Vinci among them, and I find myself at ease being surrounded by such great artists.

Lehzen shows me to a second door, which she opens with more ease—as Conroy apparently did not mind which room of my own I was in—and shows me its inner contents. The bed is massive, big enough for two, with attractive deep red curtains surrounding it. The coverlet itself is deep red as well, and I suspect filled with goose down; there is another fireplace—marble, as white as snow—across from the bed, and another painting above it, although I don’t know of who. There is a vanity table along the wall to the back of the room, with a door beside it which Lehzen informs me there is a jug and basin, along with a bathtub in case I wanted a more thorough wash. There was a toilet in there as well, Lehzen explained, and the young princess attempted to hide her smile at this declaration.

There was a wardrobe next to the fireplace, which Lehzen informed me now held my trunk, and that a maid or two would be along shortly to set my clothing to rights. A shelf in the room now held my dolls—all five, as I’d told the princess—and she now found herself drawn to them. She questioned their clothes, which were very fine, and I stated that our seamstress had made them. The princess was disappointed at that, for I would soon come to realize that she herself stitched all her dolls’ clothes.

Lehzen, the duchess, Lady Flora and the princess then proceeded to leave my rooms, informing me that the maids would be along to assist me in putting on something more appropriate for dinner. After they’d gone, I shut my bedroom door and set Flight down, and she immediately hopped up onto the window embrasure and fell asleep. Next, I opened the wardrobe and saw that the new gowns that Mama had ordered for me were all hanging appropriately, and it was then that I dug into the secret compartment of my suitcase, finding my diaries and secreting them away beneath my mattress.

The maid soon arrived to dress me for dinner, while another came along to take Flight outdoors for her evening restitution. The maid stripped me of my traveling clothes and scrubbed me down with fresh, warm water from the basin, before taking my hair out from its pins and brushing it, before fashioning it to a style that she said the princess would approve of. I tried not to roll my eyes, for I knew that it was Sir John who was dictating how I wore my hair.

I was laced into a green off-the-shoulder gown which would swish along the floors when I walked, due to my shortness in height. I found myself merely one inch taller than the princess herself, and wondered if she would make me not wear heels in her presence, or perhaps to slouch. Once my own was laced properly, an emerald drop was tied into my hair, and two emerald rings—one for each hand—were put onto my fingers. Next, an emerald pendant for about my neck, and then I managed to step into my stockings and slippers before there was a resounding knock at my bedroom door.

“Enter!” I called out.

Sir John opened the door himself, and it barely squeaked under his immense strength, although the floorboards did seem to moan as he stepped onto them. He gave me a tight, unfriendly smile as he crossed the room, taking my hand and kissing it again as I curtsied to him. “I came to escort you to dinner, Lady Felicity, if that is agreeable to you,” he states, not letting go of my hand.

“Perfectly, Sir John,” I reply.

“I also came to ask you how you found Princess Alexandrina,” he says, without a moment’s hesitation.

“She is kind, Sir John,” I reply.

His expression is reminiscent of someone chewing lemons. “She is only kind when you are doing or saying what she wants you to do and say,” Sir John informs me calculatingly, yanking me towards him. “Make no mistake, Lady Felicity—the princess is a foolish and stupid little girl.”

“Sir?” I ask, shocked at this unexpected turn of events.

“The princess needs her mother for help and guidance,” Sir John explained to me slowly, almost as if I was an imbecile. “She needs the Duchess of Kent acting as regent and me to act as her private secretary. King William is an old man and could die at any time, Lady Felicity, and it is up to us to ensure that young Princess Alexandrina is protected from herself. She cannot understand her queenly duties and she needs someone she thinks is her friend to inform her of that.”

I stand there, mouth agape. Not only had he insulted Princess Alexandrina, but he had also condemned King William to death. However, I remembered the princess’s words and commands and snapped my mouth shut. When I straightened my back and stared back at Conroy, I saw then that he was slightly intimidated by what I was doing. I crushed his hand in my grip ever so slightly, and when he snatched it back, he did not cry out; rather, he looked pleased at my defiance. “What are my orders, Sir John?”

“You are prepared to do something?” he asks.

I give him a loathsome smile. “You managed to get me a place with the princess, and now it is time for me to assist you. You cannot get something from nothing, Sir John, and I am prepared to give you something.”

“Merely inform me of your conversations with the princess,” Sir John replies. “I also want you to plant the idea in her head that she is unready to be queen all on her own, and needs strict guidance.”

I don’t allow my smile to fade. “It shouldn’t be too difficult,” I reply. “After all, you are the one who said she was foolish and stupid.”

Sir John nods at me. “It seems as if we understand each other.”

“It seems as if we do.”

“I shall ensure that you are well-rewarded when the time comes, Lady Felicity—well-rewarded.”

“Thank you, Sir John.”

He offers his arm to me then, and I force myself to take it and cleave on to him, so as he will think I am loyal to him and to his cause. “Shall I escort you to dinner now, Lady Felicity?”

“You shall,” I reply.

As we walk from my rooms and down the corridor, I find myself staring at the rushes again, wondering if something can be done about that. When we meet the duchess and Princess Alexandrina by the staircase, we exchange minor pleasantries between one another very briefly. In the moments that followed, I am shocked when Sir John drops my arm in favor of walking with the duchess, and Princess Alexandrina immediately takes my arm. 

We walk into dinner ahead of them, and the young princess grips onto me in a wave of something I cannot immediately place. It is a great shock to me, to have a princess holding onto me so tightly, and it is then that I realize what is truly going on in her mind. She is afraid, I see that now, at what we are attempting to do. We are attempting to beat Conroy at his own game, and it was a dangerous thing to do and would take an expert amount of cunning.

“Did he speak to you?” she asks me in Italian.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Did he ask you?”

“Yes.”

“Shall it be done?” she asks.

I give her a patient smile. “The seeds have been sewn,” I reply.


	2. Their Hands in Gloves

Princess Alexandrina, Dash, Flight, and I enjoyed walking in the gardens of Kensington Palace as the month of April wore on and made way for May. Both of our eighteenth birthdays drew nearer, and King William seemed determined to put a hold on his death to ensure that the princess would succeed him. The princess firmly stated that she and I would have a joint day for our birthdays, to be held at midday on the day of her birth, and the celebrations, she decided, would not be over until the twenty-sixth of May. She was quite determined to have a fun day to celebrate, which she was determined would be the final one that she was beneath her mother’s and Conroy’s thumb.

Baroness Lehzen, although well-meaning, resented the influence I had on the princess and would always seek to drive a wedge in between the two of us. I said nothing, for although I believed the baroness had an unhealthy obsession with my new friend, I knew not to come between them. Lehzen and Dash had been all the young princess had for years, and I did not want to cause my new mistress to send me away. The thought of returning to Pemberley in disgrace was nearly too much for me, and I would spend hours sobbing into my pillow at the thought of it. That, along with Conroy’s demands of me, the duchess’s and the baroness’s dislike, and Lady Flora’s rude looks were nearly too much to handle. I only had the princess, dear Flight, and Dash who were not against me.

Mama wrote to me frequently, informing me of the potential for a good match if I was to remain in favor, although my marriage seemed to be far enough away that I believed I had no just cause to worry about it. Papa seldom wrote but when he did manage to do so, he told me to obey Conroy in all things, and I promised him that I would. I would never tell a soul of my alliance with Princess Alexandrina, under the impression that it was a great secret. I knew when to speak and when not to speak, as well as just what to tell Conroy. I would delight in informing him of the young princess’s stubborn refusal of granting him the regency, and was further delighted when the frustration was never taken out on me. It seemed as though Conroy held my father in such high regard that he did not wish to potentially risk his displeasure by inflicting pain upon his daughter.

“You’re lucky he does not,” Princess Alexandrina whispered to me one afternoon when we were left alone with our spaniels. “He can be very cruel, if he has a mind to be so. Miss V. Conroy barely escaped with her father’s harsh words after I refused to play with her soon after I turned fourteen...”

“Surely, he would not deliberately inflict pain upon his own daughter,” I say, shaking my head at the very notion of it. “Surely he is not so much of a monster that he would—”

She sighed. “Unfortunately, it could occur,” she replies. “Of course, it is not nearly as bad as what I had to put up with...”

“Dear God, ma’am, what did they do to you?” I whisper.

The princess lowers her eyes, as if ashamed. “If I was very bad, as a little girl, I was made to stand in the most darkened of staircases...for hours...with my hands tied behind my back,” she whispers.

“Good God, no!” I whispered.

“We shall not dwell upon it,” she says quickly, taking me firmly by the hand and putting a smile upon her face, “for next week we are to turn eighteen, and then we shall soon escape this oppression.”

“Ma’am...”

“Yes, Felicity?” she asked.

“I heard tell that His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen applied for guardianship of you some years ago...”

She nodded. “That is true.”

“Well, perhaps, once you are eighteen, we may be at court more often. Then, perhaps, you will not be bidden to return to Kensington as much, and you can be happy in your aunt and uncle’s company...”

She smiles, squeezing my hands. “Mayhap that shall be,” she replies. “And then we may dine upon jellies and sweets and anything a young princess desires. And when I take the throne, I shall not be forced into a marriage and you shall be an advisor for me, Felicity.”

“I, ma’am? Surely some gentleman are far better suited...”

“As my Hanoverian uncle would have England believe,” she says, almost as if there is a sour taste in her mouth, “but I do not believe so, Felicity, and neither should you. You and Lehzen are all I need to run my country effectively and efficiently, and we shall have a household of dogs...” 

“And you’ve no wish for a husband, ma’am? Truly?”

She shrugs. “Perhaps, if I can find a gentleman who can abide by my size and the notion that my hair is not blonde.”

“On the contrary, ma’am, I find that since we are closer to the ground, we can hear much better as a result. And we too can hide in places others cannot and hear certain things that way.”

“We are not spies, Felicity,” the princess replies, but laughs anyhow. “I am a princess and you a high-born lady. And when I become queen, perhaps you shall have your very own title, so as to get you the best match possible.”

“A match, ma’am?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Why do you think your mama writes to you so often? I know as well as anyone that a mother wishes to see her daughter marrying well, and I shall ensure that you do so. But hopefully you shall love the man you wed, Felicity, and if an eligible man asks for you hand but you despise him, you shall not wed him, and I shall send him from court!”

I proceed to giggle. “Ma’am, I hardly think—”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I am merely a day older than you, Felicity, and I’m not queen yet. Call me ‘Drina’, everyone does.”

“Lehzen does not,” I say. “I hardly think the baroness would approve, ma’am, and I want no ill will between her and I.”

“There is no ill will between you, Felicity, because I forbid it,” she says firmly, yet not unkindly. “You and she are the only women in my life I can trust—other than your Flight—and I will not have any form of trepidation.”

“Of course, ma’am,” I reply.

“_Drina_,” she says, stressing the word.

I nod at her, knowing I must obey. “Drina,” I reply.

. . . 

Drina’s and my birthday celebrations began the week prior, as Drina decreed that such a birthday was too important not to spend a week upon. New gowns for the pair of us were commissioned by the queen’s seamstress herself, and were sent to Kensington Palace immediately thereafter for a fitting. Drina’s was a lovely blue while mine was a deep green silk. Drina ordered music and dancing for the grand celebration, and, when the dresses arrived, another surprise was forthcoming. It seemed as if Drina and I had been invited to court for a grand birthday celebration by the king himself. Of course, I understood that the celebration would revolve entirely around Drina, but I didn’t mind—it was a chance to go to court and see a king and queen.

It was a summons from the king, and the Duchess of Kent nor Sir John Conroy were able to weasel their way out of this one. Baroness Lehzen, I saw, was irritated that I got an invitation, whereas she did not. Drina and I were permitted to bring Dash and Flight along as well, and I was pleased, for I did not trust Sir John alone with either dog. When I was readying myself for the journey to London by carriage, Sir John entered my rooms unannounced, and I quickly made a grab for Flight, not wanting him to kick her from his path as I’d frequently seen him do with either Dash or Flight.

Sir John gave me that warped smile of his as he entered my chambers, ignoring the maid working within my inner rooms to make sure my suitcases were packed accordingly. “You are aware of the rules of propriety when it comes to going to court, correct, Lady Felicity?” Sir John asks.

I curtsy to him, keeping a good grip upon Flight and trying my best to stare at a space of wall behind him. “Of course, Sir John.”

Sir John steps forward then, yanking against my arm, and nearly causing me to drop Flight in the process. He gave a look of contempt at the animal as it cried out in my arms, and I was quick to silence her, giving one of my father’s oldest friends a look of such contempt—thankfully, he believed it was for his hurting of the dog, and he chuckled. “Clumsy me,” he replied.

“Careful, there,” I reply, and move to leave the room.

He reaches out for me then, pulling me back towards him and silencing me completely with a look of disdain. “You’ve done well in befriending the princess, Lady Felicity, but I want you to remember who you’re working for.”

I clench my teeth momentarily, forcing my tone to come out kind. “I never forget, Sir John,” I say, raising my eyes to his. “I never forget.”

“You will continue to persuade the princess that she needs guidance and molding until her twenty-fifth birthday?” he asks.

I gasp aloud. “Sir John, the princess turns eighteen in just three days. You know as well as I do that the realm dictates that—”

“I care not a fig what the realm dictates, Felicity!” Sir John shouts under his breath, forgetting propriety for a moment, although I did not believe that such a man had ever learned such a thing in all his life. “The princess must be contained, as she will behave so rashly, and we cannot have that!”

Sensing his grip upon me growing tighter, I forced myself not to crumble at the harshness of his tone, nor for the fear he sent through me. “Of course not, Sir John,” I replied, knowing that we were not yet safe. “I shall speak to her, of course, for I know she benefits from your worthy teachings.”

His gaze upon me softens then, and he looks upon my hair, tied back in the bun that Drina so favored. “Did your maids do that?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir John. The princess wishes for me to wear her hair similarly to hers, for it is what everyone in London is wearing, apparently.”

“Does it take long to put up?”

“Just a few moments,” I reply, feeling nervous as he raises his hands and runs his fingers along its softness. “They’ve got to brush and gather the hair, before pulling it back and pinning it in place. Not so long...”

Sir John smiles, reaching back at once and pulling the clips out of my hair; at once, the raven mane comes undone and flows down my back. As he runs his fingers through it, I do my best not to become ill, and look at the carpet pattern just below my slippered feet. He leans down then, and I stiffen at his closeness and hot breath upon my neck as his lips gently brush my skin, just below my ear. “One would think where you came from, Lady Felicity...”

I force my eyes to lock with his then, as his head pulls back to stare at me. “Sir John?” I manage to ask, finding that I am nearly trembling.

“Both your mother and father have got hair as brown as the princess’,” he says, almost as if reciting a poem. “And you... Yours is as dark as night. It is a wonder that you are a Darcy at all,” he says as we hear footsteps just outside. He pulls himself away from me then, and narrows his eyes at me. “I hardly think wearing your hair about your shoulders like a peasant girl is appropriate!” he barks then, just as Baroness Lehzen comes into the room. “Baroness, have someone come in and fix Lady Felicity’s hair at once!” he shouts, before leaving the room.

Baroness Lehzen lets out a sigh of exasperation and pulls me into my inner rooms and looks at the maid. “Pin her hair up!” she orders. As the maid rushes to finish the task over again, the baroness looks on me with annoyance. “I don’t know what you’re playing at Lady Felicity—or whatever dealings you’ve made with Sir John Conroy—but it ends now.”

I do my best not to narrow my eyes at Lehzen. “Thank you, baroness, but I don’t believe in soiling my reputation,” I reply smartly.

. . .

The ball for Drina’s birthday was a lovely occasion; we were to wear masks and the whole entertainment for the evening was not knowing who you were going to dance with next. Hand to hand, eye to eye, it was all a wonderful experience, and I was pleased to share in it with Drina. King William and Queen Adelaide were tolerant and lovely monarchs, and seemed almost as delighted to meet me as they were to greet their niece. I was pulled aside by King William during one of the dances, and I felt compelled to keep silent until he spoke.

“I do hope Sir John Conroy is not giving you too difficult a time, Lady Felicity,” he said quietly to me.

“He attempts to, Your Majesty, and although I find myself in a male-dominated society, I find I shall not crumble and weaken, nor shall I take on the weakened characteristics of a mouse,” I say with a smile. “Sir John may wish to overtake me or corrupt the image of the princess in my mind, but he cannot, and he shall not, sir, I swear it.” 

The king smiles. “I know you shall prove to be a loyal subject to my dear niece, when the time comes for her to take the throne.”

“At least we shall be safer now, sir, for now that she has reached the plum age, she may rule without the strings of Conroy,” I reply.

. . .

That night plays over and over again in my mind, and it is only four weeks later when a horseman arrives at Kensington Palace as dawn breaks. I had already risen from my bed, unable to sleep, so I put on my dressing gown and sat with Flight in the window embrasure to watch the sun rise. However, it was the horseman that arrived over the horizon, before the sun, and I could see the black armband from my window. Heart in my throat, I set Flight down and beg for her to stay, while I get to my feet and leave out the back door of my chambers, walking outside and into the hallway, where I see Lehzen walking up the staircase and tapping on the bedroom door that Drina stares with the Duchess of Kent.

I watch as Lehzen opens the door and Drina is quick on her feet, following Lehzen down the stairs as Dashy moves to follow her, which is when I feel Flight’s wet nose on my bare ankle. I gather her into my arms and slip down the back flight of stairs, going in through the intricate hallways of the palace and into where I know the man will have gone—the drawing room. I peer in through the space between a bookshelf in the room outside, and spot the man going to his knees as Drina stands before him, in her long white dressing gown, and mechanically offers him her hand to kiss.

“Long live the Queen,” come the words from his lips.

Drina looks up then, and the sun seems to rise around her. I manage to contain my gasp as Drina thanks the gentleman and turns about, Dash in her wake, and they run back towards the staircase. Quickly, I turnabout and make my way up the back stairs, coming to my bedroom just as Drina makes it up the stairs and looks at me then, our dressing gowns identical, our manes about our shoulders, our dogs running towards the other in excitement.

“So, at last,” she says, a hand placed on the banister.

Immediately, I walk towards her and fall to my knees. “God bless and keep His Majesty King William the Fourth of England, and may you live long and have a happy reign, Your Majesty,” I say.

Drina’s hand darts out then and clasps my wrist, and I immediately follow her arm upwards, so as we are standing eye to eye. “We must go to London at once,” she declares with a smile. “I want to see my kingdom.”

“If you order it, ma’am, I know it shall be,” I reply.

. . . 

Lord Melbourne arrives later that day to express his condolences over the death of King William and to get to know Drina better. Lehzen has issue with Drina seeing him alone, although I know that the monarch must see their Prime Minister alone and do not harp on it. Instead, I go to my chambers and proceed to pack everything that I believe will be suitable for court, for Drina had expressed a desire in going at once. Flight falls asleep when the Prime Minister arrives and as I am packing my belongings, so much so that I don’t hear Sir John entering my rooms.

“You have spoken to the princess, I take it, Felicity?”

I force myself not to go ridged as I motion to the maid to continue packing. I manage to compose myself before turning about and addressing Sir John with a calm eloquence that anyone would be proud of. “Of course, I have spoken to her, Sir John, but one must not order a queen. There is a fine line to tread upon, sir, and due to today’s events, I believe you should break it to her gently.”

“You shall not tell her?” Sir John demands, irate.

I shake my head. “I shall not, for I am a servant to the Queen of England—my loyalty is to her and to her well-being. I hardly think being commanded by you as if she is a madwoman will hardly be seen as in her best interests.”

At once, Sir John is across the room and is gripping me on my brachium, staring intently into my eyes. “You have no right to speak to me in such a way, Lady Felicity—you forget yourself.”

“I do not,” I reply, forcing my tone to remain contained. “You will turn me loose right now and you will leave this room.”

“I will not take orders from a mere woman,” Sir John spat, his eyes unwilling to leave my own.

“Let. Me. Go,” I replied, my voice firm.

Sir John leaned down then, yanking me towards him and firmly kissing me on the mouth. Even as I attempted to struggle, he held me there, yet I was able to keep my lips closed and locked to him. He releases me then, apparently angered at not getting more from me, yet thankfully he turns me lose.

Once I’m officially released, I raise my hand and smack him as hard as I can across the face. “God in heaven help you, Sir John,” I say.

Sir John merely brings a hand to his own cheek, before walking out of my rooms and doesn’t turn back.

. . .

“And he says I may call it whatever I like!” Drina says with glee, clutching at my hands. “For Buckingham House hardly seems appropriate—” She stops herself then and gazes at me, searching my face for a glimmer of excitement. “Felicity, are you not listening? I may rename a royal residence!”

I nod, forcing myself to smile. “Yes—it’s wonderful, Your Majesty. I am sorry, it has been a long journey...”

She catches at my arm as I move to curtsy to her, and slowly brings me upwards and stares at me again. “Is something the matter, Felicity? You hardly spoke a word to me as we came into London, and I’m inclined to think that coming into London is quite an accomplishment...”

I sighed, staring at her. “What would you think, ma’am, if a gentleman grabbed you and kissed you?” I asked her.

Drina raises her eyebrows. “Are you speaking of a man you love or a man you loathe, Felicity?”

“Loathe,” I reply. “Ma’am,” I hastily add.

“Well, then you must inform me of who he is at once, as I will have him banished from court forthwith,” she replies.

“I’m am afraid it is not at all that simple, ma’am,” I reply, “for the Duchess of Kent loves his influence upon her...”

At once, her eyes register in understanding. “Felicity, do you mean to tell me that Sir John Conroy has kissed you?” she demands.

I nod, lowering my eyes. “Yes—and I offered him no encouragement—quite the opposite, actually. I spoke of my loyalty to you and it enraged him, ma’am. It was before we left for your birthday at court that he kissed me here,” I say, indicating the space below my ear where he had kissed me the first time, “and then, before we left for London, he grabbed me and...kissed...my lips, ma’am...”

Drina promptly pulls me into her arms as I make sure I do not allow myself to shed any tears. “It is all right,” she replies. “I will think on a way to be rid of him, Felicity, but you must be patient. And remember,” she says, letting me go and staring into my eyes, “he’s on the other side of the palace, while you’ve got yourself a nice suite of rooms near mine. You’ll not have to deal with him directly, and you’ll only see him in mixed company, until I can find a way to be fruitfully rid of him.”

I nod, smiling at her. “I know you will think of something, ma’am,” I reply, “and I shall rest easier tonight because of it.”

We say goodnight shortly thereafter and I retire to my rooms, where a maid is awaiting me. She undresses me for bed and puts me in a nightgown, and Flight is already awaiting me upon my bed. I thank the maid once she’s finished and curtsies, leaving me behind with my loyal spaniel. I sit at my vanity table and take the pins from my hair, the raven locks cascading down my back. I shudder as I recall Conroy interlocking them in his fingers, and wonder if I shall ever let a man near me again because of his behavior. I pick up my brush and pull it through my hair, nibbling at my bottom lip to keep from shouting aloud at the tangles that have found their way into the nest of it.

I light the lamp beside my bed and climb into it, opening the drawer of my nightstand then and pulling out the letter from my mother. I’d had to secret it in there that afternoon, when Drina had summoned me after her discussion with Lord Melbourne before supper. Lord Melbourne had taken a shine to the new queen, and while so many members of the court seemed to dislike him, I found his manner altogether enlightening and he seemed to be quite a friendly sort of fellow. I broke the sealing wax of the letter from my mother, scanning her words.

_My dearest Felicity,_

_I am concerned about the last correspondence that your father got from Sir John Conroy, as there appears to be a new development between you two. Sir John has written that you have been acting quite tempestuous lately, and when he attempts to draw you back in line, you have the audacity to defy him. I raised my daughter to be a free-thinker, Felicity, but not to blatantly disregard authority to the point of pure hostility. _

_I don’t want to have to fetch you home because of a false illness, Felicity, but if your behavior continues, I shall soon have no choice. Sir John Conroy is a married man, Felicity, and I know that, at times, passion can have no bounds, but you may never share a kiss with a man who enjoys wedded bliss, Felicity. Kissing Sir John Conroy and then slapping him is not the kind of daughter that I raised, nor your father, and it is a blemish on the Darcy name. _

_Sir John quite understands that young women are prone to flights of fancy, and he believes that with strict guidance, your behavior will improve. I’ve taken the liberty of allowing him full-access to you, Felicity, so as he, the Duchess of Kent, and Lady Flora Hastings can properly school you in ladylike manners. I know you shall not disappoint me, my darling and, quite soon, you shall have a proper man on your arm._

_Do be better behaved in future, darling._

_Your mother,_

_Lady Elizabeth, Viscountess Pemberley_

Immediately, I get to my feet, careful not to disturb Flight as I throw on my dressing gown and step into my slippers. I dash from my rooms then, letter in hand, and run to Drina’s chambers, just down the corridor. I look up imploringly at the guards, and pray that something will be done.

“Lady Felicity Darcy to see the queen,” I manage to get out.

One of the guards steps inside to inform a maid, who will then inform Drina about my being outside—in my dressing gown, no less. Finally, the main returns to the guard who comes out, letting me inside without a word. I feel the hot tears coming down my face then as Drina emerges, now in her dressing gown with her pale brown hair flowing down her back. She catches sight of my expression and orders her maids—and, thankfully, Lehzen—out of the room, whereupon she catches my hands and urges me into a seat.

“Felicity, whatever is the matter?” she asks.

“Pardon the disturbance, Your Majesty—I’ve just received this from my mother at Pemberley,” I reply in a rush, handing over the letter.

Drina takes the letter and clasps it, her eyes roving over the text and, quite soon, she is shaking. She gets up on her feet in a moment of pure, unadulterated anger and throws the letter without ceremony into the fire, whereupon she grabs a poker and fishes it out, having changed her mind. She looks back at me, her eyes wild with fury, and looks me over.

“There’s absolutely no truth to this, Felicity, correct?”

“None whatsoever, ma’am,” I reply, the tears frozen on my cheeks.

Drina crumples the letter in her hand. “We shall not stand for this behavior in my court, Felicity—and from a man who claims to be a gentleman!” she yells. “I shall write to your mother myself, and inform her that if she dares to go against my express demands again, then she and your father will be subjected to treason, the punishment of which is death!”

“Drina!” I shout, forgetting myself and falling to my knees before her. “I beseech you, please, do not charge them!” I cry out, and find that, for the second time that evening, I am weeping like a newborn babe.

Drina softens then and leans down, picking me up from the floor and smoothing my hair back. “Don’t fret,” she says gently. “No harm shall come to them. I shall merely tell them that they shall lose their titles if they continue to correspond with Sir John. Will that suffice?”

I nod. “Yes, ma’am,” I manage to get out.

“I shall write it at once,” Drina decrees, walking over to her desk and sitting down immediately, selecting a piece of parchment and scrawling down a series of letters before the sealing wax is prepared. “Come and read it, Felicity,” she commands and I rise to my feet, coming to stand beside her.

_Viscount and Viscountess Pemberley,_

_I have just received troubling information regarding your letter from your daughter, Felicity. Felicity informed me this evening that it was your loyal and good friend Sir John that kissed her, and that such a thing was by force. I do not have liars serving me, viscount and viscountess, which is why I am inclined to believe your daughter, my good and loyal friend, in comparison to who took my childhood and changed it and not for the better._

_Sir John Conroy is a tyrant, plain and simple. He sees no need for a child to have an imagination, and finds that strict discipline, in any given circumstance, is the correct way to rear a child. I learned to keep quiet beneath him, but now that I am, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom, of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith. As such, I command that all my subjects speaketh to truth to me, and Felicity, having done so, must be speaking the truth. That makes Sir John Conroy a liar, and a traitor to your family. _

_One must remember to not doubt one’s family at whatever cost, if they have not given them reason for doing so. As Felicity has not, I expect you to recall that she is not only my dear friend but your daughter as well, and daughters are as important as sons. If I can rule and be a queen and be God’s anointed, then surely you can understand my willingness to readily believe her without question or formal questioning. _

_I am afraid that if you continue to speak with Sir John in any way, I shall have your titles removed. Since Felicity has served me faithfully, she will remain my lady-in-waiting and will also remain Lady Felicity Darcy. If Sir John Conroy demands to know what you are not writing or communicating with him in any other way, you have my permission to write directly to me, and I shall see to it that his correspondence is stopped forthwith. _

_I don’t take kindly to people’s defiance, viscount and viscountess, so see to it that I am not defied._

_Your Sovereign,_

_By the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom, of Great_

_Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith_


	3. Rooks and a Foreign Visitor

“Brocket Hall, Your Majesty?” I ask from where I see her putting on her rather understated bonnet. “Are you quite sure—”

“I know the risks of it, Felicity, thank you. And I’ve told you before—you may address me as ‘Victoria’ while we are alone.”

“Yes, Victoria—I’m sorry,” I say, lowering my eyes to the needlepoint I’ve left neglected in my lap. It was still something I was growing used to—her new name, as well as her unpopularity for allowing herself to believe that Lady Flora Hastings was pregnant with Sir John Conroy’s child. “I am sorry, Victoria,” I say again, and raise my eyes to hers. “I just don’t wish you to be hurt—”

Victoria turns to face me then, her young face awash with joy. “I will not be hurt, Felicity. For you’re coming with me.”

“Victoria?” I ask, my voice coming out a squeak.

“I’ve had the maids send for your cloak and bonnet, and you and I,” she states, pulling the black lace of her bonnet down in front of her face, “shall be quite incognito about the whole affair.”

Forcing a smile despite my utter reluctance, I turn as the door opens as a maid comes through with my cloak and bonnet, it too fashioned with lace to conceal my face from the world. “You’ll wish to speak to him on your own?” I ask.

“Yes, but you shall be nearby,” Victoria replies, motioning for the maids to put on my cloak. “I never want you far from me, Felicity.”

I force a nod then, pulling my bonnet on and the lace over my eyes as we walk out her chamber doors, down the corridor, and through the main doors of the palace. I note the unmarked carriage, knowing that going incognito is a serious business as we make our way towards it. Getting in and settling ourselves, I make sure that the blanket is firmly in place for her as I hear the reins snap from outside and soon we’re off along the road.

“The King of the Belgians certainly has a high opinion about your marriage,” I say softly to her as the carriage pulls along.

Victoria immediately turns to look at me. “Has he demanded you to speak of it, Felicity? Tell me at once.”

Immediately, I shake my head. “No, of course not,” I reply. “Your uncle and I merely spoke about trivial things whenever he does wish to speak to me—which is not often. I am merely the daughter of a newly-created English viscount, with no marriage prospects,” I say softly, and the pair of us dissolve into laughter.

“Mayhap Uncle Leopold will want me to marry Albert,” she puts in.

“You’ve seen him—he came to meet you before you were queen,” I put in. “Was he so offensive to you then?”

“No, he was quite handsome to say the least, but I don’t want a stupid little boy like Albert!” Victoria declares, leaning forward in the carriage seat and looking out the window. “We shall be there soon...”

We arrive at Brocket Hall in a little over an hour, and Victoria nearly throws herself from the carriage, walking directly towards the back gardens, her arm in mine and pulling me along. However, just as we’re about to reach the clearing ahead, she sends me off, on my own, leaving me to watch from a distance. She approaches the clearing herself, a purple dot amongst the brown and orange hues around us, and I see at once why she wished to come here in the first place. She pulls her lace from her face and approaches Lord Melbourne, who immediately seems shocked at her being there.

“The butler said you would be here,” she states.

“I come here for the rooks,” Lord Melbourne replies, turning about and nodding at the birds, who seem to wish to call out to them. “They’re sociable animals,” he goes on, a keen interest in them, it seems. “A gathering like this is called a parliament, altogether more civilized than the human equivalent.”

Victoria raises her eyes to the rooks for a moment, before turning back to the man whom she came to see. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Lord M,” she says, hesitating for a moment before stepping towards him, “but I had to talk to you.”

“Brocket Hall is honored, ma’am,” Lord Melbourne replies.

“I’ve come here incognito, of course,” Victoria puts in.

“Of course,” Lord Melbourne assures her, “but your presence cannot be entirely disguised.”

Victoria hesitates for a moment, as Lord Melbourne has stepped closer to her, but she manages to speak again. “Yesterday, I realized something...”

“Yes, ma’am?” Lord Melbourne asks, stepping closer.

“I think perhaps, now, I’m speaking as a woman, and not as a queen.” She waits for Lord Melbourne to speak, but he merely awaits her further words. “At the beginning, I thought that you were the father I never had,” she says softly. “But now, I feel... I know... That you are the only companion I could ever desire,” she says, slightly in a rush.

Lord Melbourne looks as if he would smile, yet does not allow himself to do so completely, before he takes Victoria’s hand in his, all the while she is looking up at him with earnest. The sun begins to set behind him as he speaks, and his voice sounds slightly brokenhearted. “Did you know that...that rooks mate for life?” he asks her, softly, so softly that I could barely hear it. “Every year they...they build their nests together. They renew all those little civilities that make a marriage sparkle. I-I think we could learn...much from them... If I had spent more time watching the rooks, my wife would have felt more attended to—”

“She should never have left you,” Victoria says, vehemently, almost as if she is fighting back tears. “I would never do such a thing.”

“No,” Lord Melbourne replies, looking her over, as if he would draw her to him in a moment of love. “I believe when you give your heart, it will be without hesitation. But you cannot give it to me,” he tells her firmly.

“I think you have it already,” Victoria tells him gently.

Lord Melbourne shakes his head at her. “No, you must keep it intact for someone else,” he informs her. “I have no use for it, you see,” he says simply, dropping her hands. “Like a rook, I mate for life.”

Victoria, I can see, nods ever so slightly. “I see,” she replies. She searches his face for a moment, almost as if hoping she will change his mind by merely looking into his eyes. “Then I am sorry to have disturbed you, Lord Melbourne,” she says with finality, before turning her back on him.

Lord Melbourne looks pained as she walks away from him, while I immediately move to join her in the walk back to the carriage. I almost instantly take her arm into mine, allowing her to lean on me as we walk back through the piles of leaves as Victoria attempts to compose herself. I don’t ask her, for I know she is close to tears, and I would not wish to be the cause of further distress.

“I hope I will not have to ask you to repeat this excursion to no one,” Victoria tells me quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as we leave Brocket Hall.

I nod. “Of course not,” I reply.

She nods, fasting her hand in mine. “I would not wish to look doubly a fool,” she declares then. “After that display, I’ve no mind to declare for anyone at present, so my uncle Leopold had better keep silent. 

. . . 

_People said that Mama and Papa were each other’s great love, and how she defied his rich aunt, Lady Catherine_ _de Bourgh, to marry him. Lady Catherine dubbed my mother a woman of inferior birth to my father, but neither party listened. It was quite a shock to me when I did hear that my mother quite loathed my father since their first encounter, so the knowledge that they married at all was quite a fascinating thing to me._

_Once Mama had tired of telling the story, and Papa had tired of attempting to tell it, and my brothers had tired of listening to it, it fell to my sisters to tell the tale to me, once I was old enough to understand. Mama was born into the Bennet family, the second of five daughters—my aunts Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia among the other Bennet children—and while their home of Longbourn Estate in Hertfordshire afforded them two thousand pounds a year. Lady Catherine believed their earnings substandard to my father’s more socially acceptable ten thousand a year, and, therefore, persuaded ties to be cut between them and for Papa to marry her daughter, Anne._

_“Your hands are cold.”_

_Those four words had prompted Papa to believe that Mama felt enough humility towards him, thus accepting of his second marriage proposal, after his first had gone terribly awry. Of course, one must remember not to continue to remind the opposite party of inferior birth whilst proclaiming their love. However, this is exactly what poor Papa did, and thus, prevented wedded bliss between the pair of them for several months._

_I had sometimes wondered, had Papa not managed to fumble the proposal the first time, would Mama have accepted him. I think not, for she had convinced herself that she was obligated to loathe him for all eternity. Love was a funny thing, I was coming to realize then, and I wondered when I myself would be permitted to fall into such a heady arrangement._

. . .

“I’ve taken care of matters at hand,” Victoria tells me swiftly later that evening with a sly look on her face. She is dressing for dinner and has summoned me to walk in with her. “You’ll not have to fret any longer.”

“Shall I not?” I ask, confused.

Victoria turns around then, shocked. “You’ve not heard?”

I shake my head. “Pardon my ignorance, ma’am, but I’ve not heard anything for quite some time.”

“I’ve given Sir John an Irish title, along with a pension of a thousand pounds a year,” she replies brightly. “In return for my generosity towards him, he has agreed to leave court.”

Forgetting myself once again, I throw my arms about her then with a cry of delight at the prospect of it. “Well done you!” I shout, before letting her go with a quick curtsy, my cheeks flushed in excitement. “I’m sorry—Your Majesty, if you would find it in your heart to forgive me...” 

Victoria grins, shaking her head. “There is naught to forgive,” she replies. “Now come—we are to have a lovely supper.” She looks herself over in the mirror and sighs then, shaking her head. “Oh, dear... I don’t want the pink gown—I want the blue trimmed with lace... Give me a few moments, will you, Felicity? To change out of this...”

I nod. “Of course, ma’am. I left something in my room anyhow,” I say, dipping a curtsy to her and departing. As I walk down the corridor, and make my way to my own suite of rooms, I turn the corner to see Sir John standing just beside my chamber door, and gasp aloud. “What do you here, Sir John?” I demand then, contempt dripping from my tone.

“You!” he states, approaching me then and taking ahold of my arms, pinning me up against the wall. “You had no right to poison your mother and father, nor the queen, against me! Admit your falsehoods and absolve yourself of sin!” he hissed at me, his eyes blazing in anger.

“You have no right,” I said, conviction filling my tone then as I stared him down then, anger and rage filling every fiber of my being. “How dare you write to my parents to demand me into your keeping? Had I let you, had I not put space between us, had I not informed the queen of how your evil had spread onto me, you would have _ruined_ me!”

Sir John clamps a hand upon my mouth, and I find I can no longer move. “You did not give me an opportunity, but you knew it was to come to pass,” he replies, the evil in his eyes giving no indication of melting away. “And through the Bedchamber Crisis, you said nothing absolving of me to your mother or your father—you could have intervened, but you decided not to. Selfish, ungrateful girl that you are—”

“It was not my right, nor my place to do so,” I reply, nipping at his fingers to get my reply heard. “You’ve been turned from court with a thousand pounds and an Irish title. If you’re found here, with a lady of the queen’s, surely that will be taken away from you!”

“I would not leave court before taking what is rightfully mine,” he declares. “I would not permit myself to do so.”

“There is nothing in my chambers that belongs to you,” I fire back. “Why were you lurking in the shadows, trying to get in?”

“I believed that you were within and that I would steal what was always mine,” he replies, and runs his free hand up and down my body. “Everything in life is for sale, Felicity. Do you think you got to be in Her Majesty’s household because of my connection to your father?”

“Papa said—”

“I’ll tell you how you got into her household,” he replies, cutting across my words, almost as if I was not speaking at all. “It was because I knew you were the unmarried daughter of a man who would look the other way if the man who saved his life wanted a little compensation,” he says. “Your precious papa would have died had it not been for me on the battlefield. He promised me anything I wanted, and, at the time, I truly wanted nothing—until you arrived at Kensington Palace and emerged from the carriage. That was when I knew that the settlement would be given eventually.”

“No...” I whisper.

“Yes,” he replies, using his free hand to attempt to dig inside my gown. “I’m taking back what I lost on the battlefield!”

“You. Will. Not!” I scream then, and shove him away from me. “You shall leave court, because Her Majesty ordered it. Don’t you dare touch me again,” I say, rather smartly, and turn about to open my chamber door.

“Get in there!” he says, shoving me into my bedchamber.

“No!” I scream then, and I suddenly feel as if a great weight has been lifted from me then, and, turning, I spot a man I’ve never seen before holding Sir John Conroy against the wall. My mouth falls open at his superior strength, and he is able to ward him off with a few words.

“Ein mann sollte niemals die hände auf eine dame legen, wenn er behauptet, ein gentleman zu sein,” he declares, and Sir John immediately stiffens. “Don’t put your hands on the lady again—I could hear her pleas for help from far away. I can see by your dress that you are a gentleman, yet the ones I’ve seen are not supposed to act in such a way.”

“I know you are not Ernest or Albert,” Sir John replies, stiffly.

“No,” the man replies, his German accent thick as he makes no move to move from in between Sir John and I. “I am merely Lord Wilhelm Marquardt,” he says in a patient manner to Sir John. “I am just the second son of the Duke and Duchess of Marquardt, an old German family.”

“I was merely speaking to my wife here,” Sir John replies, the lie falling easily off his tongue. “She was unwilling to submit—”

“Even I know that this young woman could not be your wife, as I already know you are Sir John Conroy,” Lord Wilhelm states without a moment’s hesitation. “I know you are supposed to leave court, and you have not done so yet.”

“I was reclaiming a debt,” Sir John tries again.

Lord Wilhelm turns to face me then, and I nearly feel my mouth threatening to drop open once again. His hair is as black as my own, yet his eyes are deep pools of everlasting silver. He has a strong yet understated jawline, and his nose is straight and perfect. His lips are the precise amount of thickness, and his skin is an appealing alabaster tone. “What do they call you?” he asks me.

“Felicity,” I reply. “Lady Felicity Darcy.”

“Ah, yes, the close companion of the queen,” he says, and I see then that his eyes appear to be disinterested as he turns back to Sir John. “I cannot think of why you would attempt to waste your time with the queen’s lady in waiting, Sir John. She doesn’t even have a ziemlich face...”

“No,” Sir John agrees, giving me a scathing look. “She is not much to look at, I’m afraid, which is why it pains me to do what I must.”

I raise myself up to my full height. “You will not do anything to me,” I say firmly to Sir John before I turn to face Lord Wilhelm. “Mein gesicht ist nicht schön, Herr Wilhelm, aber ich besitze ein gespür für sprachen. Sie sollten in zukunft am besten vorsichtig sein,” I say firmly.

Lord Wilhelm goes pale at my declaration. “Lady Felicity, I meant no ill-will towards you—”

“I’ve heard enough,” I reply.

“But Lady Felicity—”

“Enough,” I say, my voice firmer this time. “I am late in attending the queen,” I say softly, smoothing my skirts, relieved that Sir John hasn’t damaged the new and expensive gown. “I must away to my duty, although I think the queen forgives me for not being pretty,” I reply, making my way back towards Victoria’s chambers, hoping I shall never see Wilhelm again.

. . .

_My Dearest Felicity,_

_You must know that due to your father’s history with Sir John, we were initially inclined to believe his words against you. However, both your father and I have seen the error of our ways and will strive to be better in future. We have ceased all contact with Sir John, per the queen’s request. We understand things slightly better now, and will no longer feign ignorance of a subject which must firmly be kept closed for good._

_Your papa and I do understand that, given the ill-will, that it would have been considered inappropriate for the pair of us to attend the coronation. I heard tell you assisted Her Majesty the Queen in holding her skirts—you must be looked on well by her. I know she keeps you quite close to her, my darling, but I do hope you will come home for a visit quite soon. Your papa and I do miss you, yet we understand your duty to queen and to country._

_Your brothers and sisters are all in excellent health and wish to be closely and fondly remembered to you. They understand that certain conversations and things shared between you and Her Majesty are privileged, yet they wish that you could speak to them as you used to. Perhaps one day when you are married with a family of your own, you will be able to remember what it was like to live more slowly and to recall family dynamics._

_I don’t wish to keep you for long, my darling, but I implore you to write as quickly as possible. Not to concern or overtly worry you, but Papa has been sniffling a bit lately, this time more than usual. He would not wish me to trouble you, but I am afraid that I must inform you of the goings-on at Pemberley. He is a strong man, your papa, my dearest, but even he may be called into His keeping. He has been a wonderful husband and father, and I know he would want to be remembered to you if this should be our last wintertime with him._

_Your mother,_

_Lady Elizabeth, Viscountess Pemberley_

. . .

I make my way back to Victoria’s chambers, where I find her laced into her gown and sketching Dash, quite unawares. She is pleased to see me and shows off the sketch, and I praise her for portraying Dash as so lively. Flight is at my side and Victoria considerately suggests that we permit them to be in her rooms while we are at supper, and I readily agree. Victoria takes my arm and leads me into supper with her; as it is an informal evening, she is not expected to walk in with anyone in particular, so we are not at fault.

She sat down at the small circular table and pulled me in just beside her, where Lord Melbourne would frequently sit, but he sat across the table that evening. I said nothing about the newly proposed seating arrangement and merely placed my hands in my lap, waiting for the first course to be brought in. I immediately smelled the roast lamb as it came in through the doors, and Victoria led with the applause for the chef. We immediately proceeded to eat as soon as the course was brought to us, and I did my best to keep up, as once Victoria finished, the plates would be cleared for the next course.

The lamb was delicious yet was soon cleared away to make way for cod. The cod was light and quite salty this evening; I was not particularly fond of fish, but had soon learned to stomach it for Victoria’s benefit. After the cod came the duck, which was far more palatable to me, and then the roast chicken, pheasant, lark, and swan came forth. Finally, the chocolate profiteroles came forth—a great favorite of both mine and Victoria’s—and we were eager to eat them. After the final dessert course was cleared away, Victoria got to her feet, pulling me upwards with her, and the rest of the company followed suit.

“I have a mind to play the piano,” she declared to the company. Other than myself, Baroness Lehzen was there, Lord Melbourne, the Duchess of Kent, the Duchess of Sutherland, and Victoria’s uncle, Leopold, stood about us. “Come.” Victoria’s declaration to follow her was not met with a lack of enthusiasm, and we were soon making our way towards the drawing room. Victoria still kept her arm in mine and instructed me, once we arrived, to sit with Harriet, the Duchess of Sutherland, who I got on with quite well.

Victoria sat at the piano and proceeded to play, the lyrical sounds filling our ears with music that anyone could say was lively and wonderful. I found myself keeping a close eye on Lord Melbourne, who was actively looking between the queen’s fingers upon the keys, as well as her solemn face as she played. She never felt the need to look up at the music, and although she played the piece quite fast, never did she skip or fumble a note. I also found my eyes drifting to King Leopold and the Duchess of Kent; even though they were siblings, I hardly saw any familial resemblance, although they did keep turning towards the doorway, kept open for Victoria frequently became warm.

“Lovely playing,” Harriet whispered to me, gently fanning herself.

I nodded, doing the same. “Exquisite,” I replied. I heard the creaks in the floorboards soon thereafter—expensive boots, they had to be, fit for traveling—and turned to Harriet. “You don’t suppose...”

“What?” she asked, as Victoria’s playing never wavered.

Just then, a pair of gentleman entered the drawing room, and I instinctively knew them as Ernest and Albert. Ernest went to stand beside Leopold, while Albert made his way over to the piano, watching Victoria as intently as Lord Melbourne had been, although now Lord Melbourne looked slightly threatened at the prospect of a younger, more virile man watching her. Turning to the doorway again, I spotted Lord Wilhelm, who was now standing with Ernest and King Leopold; the king, to his credit, was casually speaking to both gentleman, albeit briefly, as all eyes turned to Albert’s closeness to Victoria.

Victoria continued playing, not noticing Albert, standing just beside her. She was throwing herself into the piece, and didn’t seem to want to know that a man who her entire family wished for her to marry was no longer in Germany, but was now in her drawing room. I’d heard tell about Albert’s tour of Italy, and I wondered if that would be a topic of conversation Victoria would willingly partake in, or if she would continue speaking to Lord Melbourne about the upcoming unveiling of her portrait, or their liking for English literature. When _Oliver Twist_ had was first published, neither Victoria and I could put it down, and it had prevented her from ordering new gowns in a timely manner for options for her coronation. It had all been wildly funny, although Baroness Lehzen never ceased to inform Victoria of how much she thought I should return to Pemberley.

Just then, as she neared the end of the page, Albert automatically reached out and turned it for her politely. Victoria faltered in her playing, as such a gesture had caused a shadow on the keys before her. Slowly, she raised her silver eyes to his brown ones, and looked shocked at his being there.

“Victoria,” Albert said, his German accent thick.

“Albert,” Victoria replies, her voice attempting not to waver.

I felt a pair of eyes on me then and turned, seeing Lord Wilhelm, still standing with Ernest and King Leopold. He had the nerve to look apologetic, but I turned my face away from his. _Let him try to win me over_, I thought to myself. _After that display of saving my life, mayhap he will come to believe that I owe him something as Sir John believed_. _Never. I shall never permit myself to merely be grateful for a gentleman for such a thing..._

As far as I was concerned, not only did I owe Lord Wilhelm nothing, but he also would cease to exist in my world.


	4. I Must Love You and Leave You

“I didn’t seem too shocked, did I?” Victoria asks me in the days that follow Ernest and Albert’s arrival to court. “I mean, I would not wish my cousin to dare hope that I would...”

I shake my head, and her face relaxes in my assurance. “You must always remember that you are your own mistress,” I reply with ease.

“But do you like him?” Victoria presses me.

I smile at her. “He is certainly better-mannered than that companion of his... Lord Wilhelm somebody...”

“Lord Wilhelm Marquardt,” she says patiently. “I must confess after my initial shock of seeing Albert in my court without my formal invitation, I did spy him looking at you,” she says with a little giggle. “Mayhap, by the end of next year, you and I shall too make German matches.”

“Lord Wilhelm may have saved me from certain attack against O Hum,” I reply, albeit a little heatedly, “but I shall not merely submit to him for that. He must learn that anyone he calls certain ugly terms may well speak German...”

“Oh, dear,” Victoria giggles. “What did he call you?”

I give a sideways glance at her before turning away, stabbing my needle into the stitching in my lap in irritation. “He said I was not pretty,” I replied. “Of course, I was initially grateful for his rescue from O Hum, but I was most angered by his dismissal of me in the following breath...”

Victoria clicked her tongue, to which Dash and Flight immediately looked up at her in attention. “I should think it was perfectly rude of him to say so. Shame on him for speaking ill of you like that...”

“Yet he said so in German,” I reply, smirking ever so slightly. “Little did he know that we had that language in common...”

Victoria giggles then, turning and looking outside and immediately shutting her book, getting to her feet. “The prince should be through with riding in the forests by now—or at least nearly.” She opened her door then and summoned her maid, instructing her to dress her in her riding habit. “Don’t continue sitting there, Felicity,” she scolded gently.

“Ma’am?” I asked her, noting propriety since her maid had joined us. “I don’t understand your meaning...”

“Go into your rooms and put on your riding habit,” she said with a smile.

I get to my feet, folding my stitching accordingly. “Ma’am, I apologize, for even though I do possess a talent for riding, my mother and father discouraged it and I was not permitted to do so. I have no riding habit, nor have I a horse. Perhaps the Duchess of Sutherland would be a worthier companion—”

“Yes, I know, Felicity,” Victoria replies with a slight smile as her maid removes her afternoon dress efficiently. “Which is why I’ve had the court seamstress make you a riding habit, and today we shall walk down to the stables and you shall have your pick of horses—except mine, of course,” she says with a slight twinkle in her eyes. “Go on, then—it is a beautiful work of art,” she calls over her shoulder as I move towards the door.

“I shall return shortly, ma’am,” I reply, curtsying to her and leaving her chambers nearly at the run. I make my way down the corridor, pushing from my mind my first encounter with Lord Wilhelm, as well as my attack by Sir John Conroy. I breeze into my chambers and, to my surprise, find a maid already within my inner rooms as Flight and I scurry in, and she smiles and curtsies to me.

“Will you be wanting your riding habit, Lady Felicity?” she asks.

“Yes, thank you,” I reply.

I walk into my inner rooms after her, Flight just at my heels, where the maid opens my wardrobe and reveals a beautiful riding costume; its collar was high to ward off coldness, while the skirts would easily flow over the body of any horse. I moved to a better position for the maid to unlace me from my gown, and stepped out of it as she re-hung it in the wardrobe. She then proceeded with the riding habit, lacing it properly in place before revealing a pair of black leather riding boots, which would go up over my ankle to my calf. After I was outfitted accordingly—including a riding hat with an impressive sheath of green material attached to the brim—I summoned Flight to run with me as we returned to Victoria’s rooms.

Victoria’s costume was an impressive blue with red lapels and she gleamed with delight when she first saw me. Clapping her hands, she immediately embraced me and brought me out of doors, towards the stables. Victoria’s white mare awaited us, and whinnied in recognition when we arrived. Victoria nodded for the groom to bring her forth and outside to wait, while I looked over the many horses the stables had to offer.

“These ones along here aren’t spoken for,” Victoria informed me helpfully, and nodded towards a few next to the stalls which had occupied hers. “But, if I were you, I’d stay away from that black mare in the back if I were you.”

“Why?” I ask her, moving forward. “Is something the matter with her?”

“She’s not friendly at all,” Victoria warns me as I walk closer to her.

I spot a barrel of apples just nearby her stall, and immediately take one up into my hand as I make my way towards the animal, despite Victoria’s warnings. I unwrap my fingers around the piece of fruit, and the horse, to her credit, sniffs at my forthcoming offering. I raise my hand up towards her long and impressive nose and await her blessing, whereupon she leans down and gently eats the apple from my hand, leaving just the core behind. I hand off the core to a groom who does away with it as the horse and I merely stare at one another, almost as if a mutual understanding is passing between us.

“You don’t want that one,” the groom warns, but I ignore him.

As I reach up towards the mare, Victoria takes in a sharp breath but I manage to get to the mare’s nose without her flinching or nipping at me. Her eyes never leave mine as I gently stroke her fur, softer than any silk I’d ever encountered. I walk along her body then, and the mare never takes her eyes off me as I gently run my fingers along it. Then, I see the saddle upon the bridge between stalls and lift it nearly effortlessly, before turning back to the horse and allowing her to inspect it momentarily. Her noises of sniffing cause me to laugh ever so slightly, and her ears flick backwards and forwards at the sound. Once the inspection is complete, I painstakingly strap the saddle into place, making sure it is not bound too tightly around her midsection, and then I am precise with the reigns, looping them gently around her so as not to spook her.

I turn towards Victoria then, who is shocked at what I’ve done, and manage to lead the mare from the stables, Victoria following behind. I take the mare to where Victoria’s horse is waiting, and make a grab for the pommel before swinging myself up onto the animal. She lets out a little whinny at the change in weight upon her, before I tug at her reigns and she walks around the stable yard. Victoria mounts her horse as well, and we make our way towards the woods. 

“You’re quite patient with that animal,” she remarks as we go off at a leisurely pace towards the thick line of trees.

“Am I?” I ask her aloud.

“I declare her to be yours,” she declares with a smile. “Call her what you wish, and treat her with kindness.”

We continue towards the woods, Dash and Flight following us with ease, and arrive at the first line of trees, just as Lord Wilhelm emerges from them. I do my best to hold my tongue, turning towards Victoria as she moves to speak with him. I cannot understand why she would want to speak to such a beast of a man, for, even though he was raised with both princes, he seems to have taken the negative portion of Ernest’s lessons in manners to heart.

“Where are my cousins, Lord Wilhelm?” Victoria asks.

“I’m am afraid they have gone off in separate directions, Your Majesty,” Lord Wilhelm replies with mock regret. “I find forests to be lovely pieces of land, but even I fancy a good race now and again.”

“What a perfectly wonderful prospect, for Lady Felicity has just gotten herself a new mare,” Victoria replies immediately. “I should think a race between the two of you will strengthen the bond between England and Germany—two great and powerful countries. Well, go on, Felicity,” Victoria says with an encouraging nod towards Lord Wilhelm. “Mayhap one of you will learn some manners by the end of the day,” she says, spurring her horse and taking off into the woods, Dash running at her horses’ heels.

“Do you enjoy forests, Lady Felicity?” Lord Wilhelm asks. “For, if you do, I believe I could tolerate some more...looking.”

“I do, but there’s no need to trouble yourself,” I reply in a clipped tone. “I find that riding alone is far better than bad company, Lord Wilhelm.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, Lady Felicity,” Lord Wilhelm replies, immediately moving to follow me into the woods from another direction, “and yet I find that situations left unresolved can lead to years of torment.”

“Torment, Lord Wilhelm?” I fire back. “I hardly think you know the meaning of the word...”

“My mother died when I was a boy,” he replies, and, thankfully, he cannot see my expression of pity for him. “She gave my father three sons—my elder brother Charles, myself, and younger brother Ferdinand, before she died a tragic death,” he says, and, at last, I turn to look at him.

“Did your father remarry?” I ask, hardly knowing how one so young would be able to deal with a loss two times over—the loss of a mother, and the loss of her position as his father’s only wife.

“He did, to a woman named Eleanor, once an intended bride for my elder brother Charles,” he replies. “She was nineteen to his fourteen, so Papa believed her a far more suitable match for himself.”

“And did they have children?” I ask, quietly.

“My sisters—Cecilia, Isabella, and Elisabeth,” Lord Wilhelm replies, and I detect a fondness at the back of his tone. “I was merely eleven when Papa married Eleanor and, in time, she became Mama to me as well. Although I shall never allow myself to forget my mother, Maria Anna...”

“No, and you shouldn’t,” I reply, reaching across the divide and taking his hand in mine, my eyes never leaving his. “You obviously loved your mother a great deal, and anyone who bids you to forget her is heartless and cruel.”

Lord Wilhelm maneuvers his hand so as one of his is over mine. “She was a beauty, my mother—she would have liked you very much... You remind me of her, Lady Felicity, truly...”

I freeze beneath his hand then. “And yet, you said I was not ziemlich, Lord Wilhelm, and yet you called your mother a beauty. So, which is it, then?” I ask him, pulling my hand from his. “Is your mother hässlich, or am I eine schönheit?” I ask of him.

Lord Wilhelm looks uncomfortable. “I am afraid, Lady Felicity, that you have misjudged me, and I feel that, perhaps, if you were to fully understand where it is I have come from—”

“Don’t,” I say, my voice firm as Ernest and Lord Alfred Paget ride by, to which the pair of us nod to them.

“Ten guineas!” Ernest shouted at us.

“Can’t stop, I’m afraid!” Lord Alfred yells as they ride by.

“Why can you not be kind?” I demand of him then. “Why can you not be kind like Prince Albert? He is soft-spoken and kind, whereas you are—”

“What?” Lord Wilhelm asks, dropping down from his horse and coming towards mine, reaching up—he is quite tall, nearly five inches taller than Prince Albert—and lifting me down from my mount. “What am I, Lady Felicity? What is it you wish to call me? I would know...”

I find that my heart is in my throat, for the way he looks at me is the way I wished a man would look upon me for so long. It was rather daunting when Sir John Conroy did so, but Sir John Conroy was a married man, a tyrant, and an enemy. I found I could not think of Lord Wilhelm in the same manner, for to think so was to compare him to a man who had nearly ruined me. I should think him a gentleman, I saw that now, for Prince Albert was cultured enough that he would not have selected a tyrant to accompany him on a royal visit—

“Felicity?” he asks, and I find that my eyes have been drifting first to his eyes and then to his lips, and I cannot for the life of me remember how to speak. “You have not given me your answer.”

I part my lips automatically, and I know what to say, but then I find that the words that come out of me are not something I would characteristically say. “Tell me, Lord Wilhelm, do you consider yourself to be a liar?”

“No,” he replies, “that is Ernest. Albert is who I align myself with, and he speaks the truth. That is the way I wish to live my life, Lady Felicity.”

“Then why did you tell Sir John Conroy that you believed me ugly?” I ask.

“I may have said what I said, but it was done to protect you,” he replies. “I believed if I told him that—having the noble son of a good family, albeit a German one—telling him that a lady which struck his fancy was unattractive, I believed that he would have left you alone.”

I force myself not to cry at this unexpected turn of events. “So, I am not ziemlich to you, Lord Wilhelm?” I ask.

“No,” Lord Wilhelm replies, a small smile appearing on his lips. “You are a schönes mädchen,” he replies.

“A beautiful girl?” I ask him.

“Yes,” he replies, as a trickle of wind encounters the pair of us, rendering some of my hair to free itself from my bun. Carefully, Lord Wilhelm reaches down and tucks it behind my ear, and I feel a shiver down my spine. “I apologize,” he says quickly, “I should not have... I apologize if my touch revolts you...”

“It does not,” I reply. “Sir John Conroy’s touch revolted me. Yours... It is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.”

Lord Wilhelm reaches downward slowly and takes my hand, covered by riding gloves, and brings it upwards, almost as if he is weighing it in his hands. Then, he goes to kiss my hand, but I withdraw it from his immediately. Chastened, he then turns around to return to his mount, but my hand upon his shoulder stops him, and he turns back to face me.

“I misjudged you, Wilhelm,” I say, and his look softens at my use of his Christian name without the trappings. I give him a smile to return his and, slowly, remove my glove from my hand and hand it to him. “If you do not have a betrothal in Germany, I would like you to keep it,” I say softly.

Lord Wilhelm weighs it in his hands. “I do not,” he replies. He takes the glove and unbuttons his shirt, placing the glove over his heart. “I shall treasure this,” he says, and I look away, my cheeks flaming at his boldness. “You are at your most beautiful when your cheeks turn rosy,” he says softly, buttoning his shirt up again, whilst I skillfully place my lone glove in my pocket.

It is then that hoofbeats sound on the ground then and Prince Albert himself comes at a canter, stopping when he gets to us. “Dash has injured himself,” he says in a clipped tone. “I’ve left the queen in the woods to tend to him, but she will need assistance in getting back to the castle.” He turns to Lord Wilhelm then, and snaps his fingers impatiently. “Back to the castle, Wilhelm,” he orders. 

I manage to get back onto my mount on my own, Flight just beside me, and nod to the prince and to Lord Wilhelm before spurring my mare and taking off down the grove of trees. Once I hear they are out of sight, I feel relief once I come to the place where Victoria has left her mare. Dismounting, I hope my horse will stay there as I go off the trail, hoping that Flight will be able to sniff them out. I duck beneath branches and over logs, wondering what Victoria and the prince could have possibly been thinking, wandering about like this.

“Victoria?” I call, my voice an octave higher than it usually was. “Victoria?” I call out again. “Flight, where’s Dash?” I whisper. “Victoria!”

“Here!” she calls, and emerges from some foliage, Dash in her arms.

“Oh, dear!” I cry out, running forward, taking her cap from her and walking alongside her, Flight proceeding to whimper at her friend’s pain. “What has happened here?”

“Dash’s leg is broken,” Victoria replied, her voice choking back sobs. “We’ve got to return to the palace at once!” She looks through the trees then, and only spots our horses waiting us. “Has everyone else gone?” she asks.

“Yes. His Serene Highness took Lord Wilhelm back to the palace. He seemed a bit short,” I said softly, taking Dash from Victoria as she goes to mount, before handing him back to her. I make a grab for Flight next and mount without much difficulty, before spurring my mare and taking off after Victoria. “Did he say something to offend you?” I ask her.

“He was angered by my friendship with Lord M,” she replies shortly, looking from Dash to the terrain ahead. Her eyes turn to mine then, and they appear to be quite stormy indeed. “There shall always be rumors, yet I know that you were the only one I brought to Brocket Hall... You heard all that was said between Lord M and I, didn’t you?” she asks, her tone bitter.

I nod. “Yes,” I reply. “But I shall never breathe a word of it, even if tortured. You are my friend until death, Victoria, and to betray you would bring my death, and I would forgive you,” I say quietly, yet my voice is full of determination. “I don’t take vows lightly, as I know you do not, and you require honesty first and foremost when it comes to your service, and I shall never waver in mine.”

Victoria nods. “I do require honesty,” she replies, looking ahead at Windsor Castle with equal determination on her face. “What was said between you and Lord Wilhelm?” she asks.

I pretend to be inspecting Flight, when in actuality, I make sure I do not show my rosy cheeks to Victoria. “Lord Wilhelm and I have come to a mutual understanding or so it seems,” I reply.

“Really? How?”

I continue to hide my smile. “I shall no longer loathe him for all eternity,” I reply, and turn to look at her. “And that is all I am permitted to say.”

. . . 

I recall the card games and the small dinners and the grand ball and dancing that I had had with Lord Wilhelm, and how my iciness had withered, as had his alleged impoliteness towards me. Victoria had said more than once that she would wish for my utmost happiness when it came to my marriage, so when I knew she was to propose to Prince Albert, I too wondered if such a thing would come to pass for me at all. The notion that she was proposing to him was such a beautiful thing that I soon found myself wandering the castle corridors until finally it became so warm that I ventured out of doors into the darkness, before finding my way back to the ballroom where Lord Wilhelm and I had shared our first dance.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

Turning, I found my cheeks turned pink as I found myself staring at Lord Wilhelm in the candle-lit room. “What?” I ask him.

“The ballroom when you and I came to an understanding,” he replies, “as well as my master pledging himself to your mistress this night.”

“It is beautiful,” I reply, managing to step towards him.

“I am pleased for my master,” he tells me.

“As I am for my mistress,” I say with a smile. “I never thanked you properly for saving me from Sir John Conroy. Thank you,” I tell him.

Lord Wilhelm’s smile broadens. “I did what any gentleman would do. Of course, the temptation to make the better acquaintance of one of the queen’s closest companions was nearly too hard to resist. Of course, had I known that you were the lady in question...” He spreads his hands. “One cannot always know who they will end up saving.”

“You said that you and I came to an understanding,” I say quietly, and feel relief when he is the one to step closer to me this time. “What did you mean by that?” I want to know. “Do you wish from me everlasting friendship?”

“Of course—you are a kind and generous person, Lady Felicity. Of course, I do. I do wish for your everlasting friendship.”

“And do you merely wish for friendship?” I ask him, watching his dark eyes for a hidden meaning. “Shall I cease hoping for more?”

Lord Wilhelm smiles and continues stepping forward. “After Windsor, in the woods where you gave me your glove, I asked Her Majesty permission to write to your father,” he tells me quietly. “She, of course, asked why, and when I informed her of my intentions, she jumped at the opportunity, even writing a letter herself to help in my pursuit.”

“Pursuit?” I ask, my mouth going dry. “Pursuit of what, may I ask?”

Lord Wilhelm finally closes the final steps between us, taking my hands in his as Lord Melbourne had done to Victoria at Brocket Hall. “Pursuit of your hand in marriage,” he replies simply, his thumb running over my knuckles. “I realize that I am a second son, with no hopes of inheriting my father’s title, due to my brother Charles’s marriage and birth of two sons already, but I would be a good and faithful husband to you, Felicity—”

“I’m hardly worthy of you,” I reply, my words breaking my heart as much as I knew they would break his. “I am the tenth child of a viscount, with no hopes for a dowry enough to turn your parents’ heads...”

“Her Majesty is prepared to give us a manor and a house in London,” he tells me gently, not letting go of my hands. “Your father informed the queen that your dowry would be two thousand pounds a year, and my father informed me that, if I do love you as I claim to, then that would more than suffice—”

“Love?” I whisper, the word hanging between us as I stare up at his eyes, deep silver pools of earnest. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Lord Wilhelm replies.

I shut my eyes at his declaration, the tears escaping from beneath my lashes and falling down my cheeks. “I love you, Wilhelm,” I whisper.

Wilhelm’s finger tilting my chin up causes my eyes to fly open as he leans down and brushes his lips with mine. “Marry me,” he whispers, his hot breath leaving his mouth and entering mine. “Be my wife...”

“Yes,” I whisper back immediately. “Since Her Majesty, my father, and yours have given their consent, then I formally give mine. I shall marry you, Wilhelm... My Wilhelm,” I whisper, reaching upwards and taking his face into my hands, and guiding his forehead to rest against mine.

“My Felicity,” he whispers back. “I return to Coburg with Their Highnesses in just two days,” he tells me softly. “If the prince accepts the proposal of the queen, which I know he shall, I shall return as soon as parliament has accepted the queen’s intention to marry him.”

“And when will that be?” I ask, not releasing him.

He smiles down at me. “Soon, very soon,” he tells me. “But don’t despair, my darling, for you need not worry.”

“Need not worry?” I ask, shutting my eyes and throwing myself into his arms. “I cannot bear it! Now that I have you, you’re to be taken away from me... And you’ll likely turn your head at the first pretty blonde you see...”

Wilhelm tightens his grip around me. “Don’t think me faithless,” he says gently to me in my ear. “I’ll not wander. I know it is a custom for men to have mistresses outside of marriage, but I refuse.”

At once, I raise my eyes to his. “What?” I whisper.

He smiles tenderly down upon me. “I want nobody else,” he assures me. “And now that you are to be my wife, I shall write to you while I am at my home in Coburg at the prince’s side.”

“You will write to me?” I ask him.

“On my knees, I swear it,” he says with a smile. “We shall write of our undying love for one another, and anything you may want for our wedding. We may have it at Pemberley, if you wish.”

I smile up at Wilhelm. “If the queen can spare me, and if His Serene Highness may spare you,” I reply.

“We shall find a way,” he tells me, tightening his grip upon me. “We shall find a way to be away from court now and again—at our country house. I’ll want to live there when the children come.”

“Children?” I ask, shocked at the prospect of it all. “What children?”

“Yes—our children,” he tells me. “For I shall want a houseful of sons and daughters to take our name and to be free to live wonderful lives...”

“Our children,” I whisper to him, loving the way those words sounded on my tongue. “Our children...”

“But first a wedding,” Wilhelm rules.

“A wedding...” I whisper, never wanting him to stop holding me like this. “My Wilhelm,” I say, smiling up at him.

“My Felicity,” he replies, leaning down to kiss me again.


	5. Sweet Nothings

Victoria and I are each overcome with emotion for the other, now that we are both engaged to worthy German men. I bid farewell to Wilhelm before Victoria does so to Prince Albert, knowing that they will be in Coburg for at least a fortnight, yet I find comfort in knowing that they will write to us. Just as Victoria and I have returned indoors from bidding farewell to our intended, Baroness Lehzen quickly approaches the pair of us. She gives me a rather scathing look that Victoria does not see before handing over a letter.

“Delivered from Pemberley just a few moments ago, Lady Felicity,” she says rather abruptly to me. “Your Majesty,” she says next, turning to Victoria, “shall we take Dash for a walk in the gardens?”

“Lehzen, please,” Victoria says, scolding her gently, watching as I break the seal of the letter myself and inspect the pages. “Leave me alone with Lady Felicity, please, for I fear she will have need of me.”

I scan my mother’s words, hardly knowing the woman who is writing them. Mama was always so confident in her dealings with everyone—Great Aunt Catherine, her mother and father, and especially her shamed sister Lydia—but now, something was quite different. There were blots to her ink as if she spilled the pot, or perhaps if she was weeping during the writing of the letter. I had never known my mother to weep in all my life, although I had heard tell that she had done so on the day of my birth, for I was so small that none of the physicians believed that I would survive the night, and when I did, joy rang true throughout Pemberley for several weeks on end...

_My Dearest Felicity,_

_I wish you joy in your glad tidings of your upcoming marriage to Lord Wilhelm Marquardt, for although he is a German, I feel, if you love him, then he must be worthy of you. Although you are the youngest, you found fortune in winning the favor of a monarch, thus obtaining a place at court. I know that Lord Wilhelm will be a good a loving husband to you, and because of Her Majesty’s favor, you too shall have a blessed life._

_I also write to inform you that Fitzwilliam the Younger, along with Alexandra, have had a son at long last, thus securing the succession for Pemberley. They have called him James, for all the former rulers with that name, and believe him to be strong and healthy. I know you shall send them glad tidings for this wonderful news, as all your brothers and sisters have done._

_Papa was overjoyed at this news before he took to his bed. The physicians claim it is merely a rheum—an ache in his muscles—and he bid me not to inform you of it, yet I felt that I must. Despite all that has passed between you, Felicity, you were always his favorite, as you were the only one he gave his blessing for me to give my name to you. He saw something in you at your birth, my darling, that he did not see in any of your older siblings—not even in Fitzwilliam the Younger. He saw a rare determination that Bennet girls had—I had it, as well as your Aunt Mary and Aunt Lydia—to discover what we truly want and to seize it with both hands._

_I know what with the parliamentary rule that you cannot leave Her Majesty’s side, and yet I wish for your return home to Pemberley. I would not tell you to do so, my darling, but with your father so ill, and the physicians casting worried glances my way, I fear for the outcome. Can you not ask the queen to return home to us, just for a week, so as to assuage my fears that you cannot be delivered of your father’s blessing, just one last time?_

_I shall look for a carriage or a letter from you, my darling._

_Your faithful mother,_

_Lady Elizabeth, Viscountess Pemberley_

“Felicity?” Victoria asked, her voice grave, as I merely stared at the letter before me with trembling hands. “What is it?”

“My father is ill,” I reply, slowly handing over the letter to her. “My mother requests me home for a week, yet I know you need me in the days leading up to the parliamentary decision, ma’am, I quite understand—”

“No.” Victoria’s voice is so firm that it removes me from my fragile state enough to look at her. “No. If your mother commands it, you are to go immediately to Pemberley, Felicity. Do not worry,” she says quickly, handing back the letter to me and clasping my hand. “I shall of course employ a carriage for you for safe conduct, which you will return in at weeks’ end. You must go to your chambers at once and ready yourself, Felicity. I’ll not have your mama banging on the doors of Buckingham Palace, demanding me to release you,” she jokes.

Still seeing Lehzen lurking beside me, her frog-like face smirking ever so slightly at my forthcoming departure, I quickly curtsy to Victoria. “Thank you, ma’am,” I say quickly, not raising myself immediately. “I shall never forget this kindness and consideration towards me.”

“You may go, Felicity,” she says gently to me, and pulls me to my feet. “And Felicity?” she asks as I make my way off, before turning around to face her. “Do write to Lord Wilhelm before you go off to Pemberley, for I am quite sure he will wish to write you this first week,” she tells me with a smile.

. . . 

_My Dearest, Darling Wilhelm,_

_My dear father is ill and I must leave Buckingham Palace for Pemberley at once, with Her Majesty’s permission. Her Majesty advised me clandestinely that I send you correspondence telling you of my departure and I am—amid telling my maid about which dresses would be suitable for potential mourning. I would not have the letter arrive at the palace without someone proper to receive it._

_I want not to bother you so quickly with my scribbles, and yet I felt I would prefer to know if you were to move house rather quickly and unexpectedly. I do hope the journey goes well for you, my darling, and I know it shall. You, my love, and Their Highnesses shall be kept in my prayers to ensure safe travel, as I fear I would die if something happened to you. _

_The carriage has been prepared for me, my trunks packed, and Flight is all but clamoring to go to Pemberley. I doubt she will remember it—I hardly know if she has even been inside the manor—but hopefully, next time I journey to my family home, you shall be in the carriage, or on the horse beside me. I wager we shall bring our children there on bended knee to greet my new nephew, James, and we shall all be merry upon our arrival._

_Safe travels, my beloved._

_Your betrothed,_

_Lady Felicity Darcy_

. . .

The carriage ride took nearly five hours from Buckingham Palace back to Pemberley, and I feared that, perhaps, Wilhelm would be displeased that I’d left court. Of course, he would not return for another week by the time I returned, but surely, if he did return early, he would want me there awaiting him. As I watched the landscape go from high to low outside the carriage, I found myself stroking Flight absentmindedly, hoping that my letter reached Wilhelm safely. I knew he would be safe with the princes, yet I already missed him terribly.

I wondered if Lehzen would steal the letter and destroy it, and then gather up my letters from Wilhelm and write back as me, and then break our betrothal. I knew she did not like me, but I wished she would manage to make an error in her dislike and permit Victoria to see. If that were the case, and it came right down to it, I considered who Victoria would choose—Lehzen or I. I didn’t wish to think about it, for the alternative, and what I suspected, was devastating.

I arrived at Pemberley just before supper, and hastily removed myself from the carriage, running towards the front doors, gripping Flight tightly in my arms, my traveling cloak billowing out behind me. “Mama?” I called, thundering through the doorway quickly. “Papa?” I yelled, my voice hinging on worry. As I looked about the entryway, I found myself listening for the age-old sounds of the house, and recalled running down the numerous hallways as a child with my brothers and sisters during moments when it was acceptable to do so. If I listened closely, I could still hear the sounds of my laughter...

“Felicity!” Mama said, immediately moving down the grand staircase and pulling me into her arms.

“Mama, Her Majesty bid me come at once,” I say, hastily moving Flight to my other arm so as to properly embrace my mother. “I may stay the week, and then I must return, for the parliamentary ruling,” I say, standing back and soothing Flight in my arms.

“And has your Lord Wilhelm returning to Coburg with the princes?” Mama asks, motioning for the servants to bring my trunk through from the carriage. “He will have gone back, wouldn’t he have?”

“He has gone back, although the queen did suggest that I write him before my departure to inform him where to send letters for the next week,” I reply, following my mother up the stairs to my old rooms.

My mother puts an arm around my shoulders. “She was right to inform you to do so—speaks to the true character of an individual if they are considerate,” she tells me with a smile.

“Papa?” I ask, finding myself more exhausted from my journey than I’d originally anticipated to be. “Is Papa...?”

“He is well—well enough,” Mama replies patiently, guiding me up the last of the staircase and towards my bedchamber. “We’ll have you changed for supper, and then we shall eat. You may even meet little James beforehand if you wish—he is in the nursery—”

“I wish to see Papa now,” I say, my voice firm, and Mama turns to look at me with a shocked expression. “Sorry,” I say quickly, turning away from her and my cheeks flaming with regret. “Truly, I am. I was just so worried when I left London and the journey was so much longer than I expected...”

Mama nods, drawing me close for a moment outside my rooms. “You know as well as I do that your Papa values tidiness,” she tells me patiently, guiding me into my bedchamber. “Ready yourself for supper—the servants are leaving now, you see,” she says, nodding to the men who leave my bedchamber and return down to the main floor of the house. “Your maid is awaiting you. Change for supper, and I shall be along shortly to bring you to Papa.”

I nod, moving Flight around in my arms. “Of course,” I reply.

Mama lowers her eyes to Flight, smiling indulgently at her and moving forward to scratch her behind her ears. “What food does she like? I’m quite sure the kitchens can make anything...”

“She is quite fond of chicken livers, like Her Majesty’s spaniel, Dash. They are quite close, the pair of them, truly...”

Mama moves her hand slightly downward, pressing ever so slightly into Flight’s firm belly. “You would tell me if Flight and Dash...?” She hesitates for a moment before speaking again. “Shall Flight...?”

At once, I catch her meaning. “Oh, no, Mama,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I know that Her Majesty keeps a close eye on Dash, and even if she is not there, she has him watched—Lord Alfred Paget has taken a fancy to them both,” I say, and lean down, brushing my lips upon Flight’s head.

“And not to you?” Mama asks, eyeing me closely.

I laugh at the thought of that. “Oh, no!” I cry out. “Lord Alfred is a wonderful servant to the queen, yet he likes to spend his time riding. He is close friends with Mr. Edward Drummond, and they act as go-betweens for Her Majesty and Lord Melbourne,” I explain. I look at Mama askance then, and suddenly, I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of fear, and as I look her up and down, a new feeling of utter loathing. “Is your meaning behind your questioning of me an inference that you wished for me to marry an Englishman?” I ask her.

Mama’s eyes turn downcast then, and she suddenly looks unsure. “It certainly would have been easier, had you fallen in love with one,” she replies.

“Easier for who, Mama?” I ask, my tone as cutting as a snake bite. “Easier for me, or easier for you and Papa?” I demand, pulling myself from her grip and walking into my rooms, before slamming the door behind me.

. . .

As my time at Pemberley wore on, I found myself more and more of an outsider looking in, for Fitzwilliam, Alexandra, Honor, Grace, Mercy, James, Mama, and Papa were the only members of the Darcy family living at Pemberley anymore. I missed my other brothers and sisters, who had been married off to heirs from the Bingley, Wickham, Lucas, and Collins families over the last several years.

I spoke often with Alexandra, but she was as quiet as my Aunt Jane, and never gave in to flights of fancy. Now that Aunt Georgiana was off and married raising children of her own, there was nobody to play the pianoforte for me whilst I sang, as my cross sister-in-law Alexandra didn’t have a taste for it, nor did she allow her daughters to do so either. I believed she did not wish to be seen as an old maid, for my mother’s next younger sister, Aunt Mary, had taken years to marry and when she had, she only had one small son and four frail girls to show for it.

The last days of my week had been a torment, the only salvation being when two envelopes arrived for me on my penultimate day at Pemberley. One was from my dear Wilhelm, and the second was from Victoria herself. My heart skipping a beat, I left the breakfast table—my bread half-jammed—and dashed off to my chambers to read them over in peace. I hastily paid the messenger from court to wait, telling them that I should have a reply within the hour.

I got to my bedroom quickly, shutting the door behind me and then ordering the maid to leave me alone. I was thankful that she took Flight out into the gardens for a morning runabout, as I moved towards my window embrasure for better light. I was quick in breaking the seal from court in London, and I scanned the words from our gracious monarch quickly.

_Dear Felicity,_

_Parliament has unfortunately been delayed in their decision making and, as a direct result, Albert, nor Ernest, nor your Lord Wilhelm may return to court in London as of yet. Albert is still clamoring for a worthy allowance, and I wish to give it to him, as well as to make him King Consort, but dear Lord M believes that such a thing shall lead to an uprising. It is my job to form a government as I see fit, and yet they are dictating me as Conroy once did, as if I was a perfectly mad little girl who cannot make up her own mind._

_I miss you dreadfully, Felicity, for now I only have Lehzen and Dash at my side as trustworthy companions. Harriet has returned to the country to tend to her children, so I feel an absence of close friendship twofold. I have taken the liberty in sending you a basket of fruit from the winter orchards, in the hopes that it brings about your lord father’s health. You did remark to me of his fondness of peaches more than once, I think, and perhaps they shall alleviate his symptoms sooner rather than later._

_As parliament sees fit to keep me waiting, I am extending your time at Pemberley by another week, until this is sorted out. I want to make sure your papa is at least out of bed before I send for you again. Don’t fret—I received a letter from Albert this morning, so I am quite positive one from your Lord Wilhelm shall arrive shortly. Please give my best to your family, and I shall see you the week after next, my dear friend._

_Your monarch and friend, Victoria_

_This had to be Lehzen’s doing_, I told myself, hatred for Victoria’s former governess flowing through me then. She sought to keep me out of court, yet I knew that if I remained evasive, perhaps Victoria would summon me back to her in a hastier manner. I wrote a quick reply to her, thanking her for the fruit from the winter orchards and explained about Papa’s recovery process, yet said nothing about the parliament’s delay, nor her refusal for me to come to court when it was originally decided for me to do so.

“Let that be a lesson for listening to her governess,” I said bitterly, sealing the envelope and turning to my letter from Wilhelm. Breaking the seal, I hesitated before opening it, wondering if he was writing to break our engagement. Perhaps he saw this delay as a sign that we should not be married. Nevertheless, I promised myself to read the letter in its entirety before I went on and on making up stories about what could happen. I found that trepidation was stemming through to my fingertips as I opened it, staring at the words before me.

_My Darling Felicity,_

_I wanted to extend my heartfelt apologies for returning to Coburg, while you yourself are too experiencing a crisis at home. I am terribly sorry about your father’s illness—I don’t wish pain and suffering towards any members of the Darcy family, especially you, my dearest. I will try to return to England quickly, for I adore your mother and father already for allowing me to wed you, and I should like to know them both. Might I suggest a hearty stew, full of meat and vegetables, for your father’s swift recovery? As a little boy, whenever I would eat such a meal, I found my health and strength returning overnight._

_His Serene Highness has informed me from Her Majesty that parliament is delayed in its decision to allow my master to marry your mistress. I find this news greatly distressing, as I wished for Her Majesty to marry His Serene Highness as quickly as possible. I wish this, for the sooner they are wed, so may we be. Happiness will happen for the four of us, meine geliebte, and if we must await a decision by parliament—a necessary one—then it will be a privilege, knowing that you are awaiting me on the other side of it._

_I don’t want you fretting about me meeting a young German girl with cascading blonde locks—I know that she would be leidenschaftslos, whereas you are leidenschaftlich, in every which way. As I said before I had to leave for Coburg to attend His Serene Highness, I wanted none but you, and that is still true. I am utterly in love with you, Felicity, and this past seven days without you have been a quälen, and all I wish to see is your face looking back at me, your hand in my own, and my family’s ring upon your finger._

_Please write to me and say that you are well, for I fear I will umkommen if I do not hear from you with haste. Do not forsake me, meine süße, for I fear my heart shall break if I do not see your words before me. Tell me all of Pemberley, so as I might paint a picture of it in my mind’s eye, allowing me to believe that, for a moment, you are here with me, speaking of it yourself._

_Farewell for the moment, meine liebling. _

_Your husband-to-be,_

_Lord Wilhelm Marquardt_

. . .

I was at last summoned back to court, but the days continued to drag on as the parliament refused to come to an immediate decision. October dragged on and soon November had arrived, but no choice had been made. There was debate on whether or not Victoria would be permitted to remain Queen of England at all, due to Albert’s not being Catholic. I found such a statement utterly ridiculous, and told Victoria as much, the words secreted behind my hand, while a laugh was secreted behind hers.

The letters continued—mine from Wilhelm and Victoria’s from Albert—and we would read one another segments from them. There were portions of the letters, however, that we only read to ourselves, and we each respected the other’s choice to keep the arrangement that way. As December dawned, Victoria grew more discouraged than ever before, as Dash was not fond of the snow and neither was Flight, and so walking in the gardens with them was out of the question. The pair of them would inevitably wish to be let down from our arms, and then they would whimper whilst standing in the snow, and we would have to take them back to the palace again to warm them up.

When January finally arrived, the parliament finally reached an agreement, although it was not a pleasant one, and Victoria began to worry for Prince Albert’s return to England because of it. The allowance which she had requested for him was reduced to almost nothing, as she feared that he would use it for actresses, as she had told me her uncle, King Leopold, had done. Neither was she permitted to name him as King Consort, and she began to fear that he would not appreciate the paltry allowance, nor her efforts to get him otherwise.

“He loves you,” I assured her before she left for the throne room to greet him. “I am quite positive he shall be accepting of the alternative.”

“Because it is in my gift?” she asks, her eyes meeting mine in her mirror, a smile passing between us. “A Knight of the Garter? Are you quite sure he will be tolerant of that, Felicity?”

“I shall take no credit for it, Victoria,” I admonish her gently, before I allow myself to smile at her again. “Besides, you said yourself that he envied Lord Melbourne’s position...”

Victoria sighed. “He has mentioned it...”

“Well, Lord Melbourne is not a Knight of the Garter,” I replied with a rather wicked smile. “He shall certainly like that aspect of it.”

Victoria smiled at that, before reading out and clasping me by the hand. “And you will not witness the ceremony?”

I shake my head. “Lord Wilhelm is anxious to see me,” I reply.

“You will not marry without me there?” she asks, gripping me by the wrist and holding me there beside her. “I wish to attend the ceremony...”

I lean down, pressing my cheek to hers. “He has not proposed a date for the intended ceremony, although he gives me every intention that we shall wait until you and the prince—”

“You must not wait for us,” Victoria says quickly, her eyes shining. “You must wait when the both of you deem it to be the correct and proper moment. All I ask is that you inform me of where and when, and allow me and Albert to be your witnesses. He thinks so highly of you, Felicity—Albert does. He wishes Wilhelm to be happy and if Wilhelm has chosen you, then Albert shall see to it that the pair of you are offered nothing but the best of everything.”

“Second best of everything,” I reply quickly, “for the best of everything should surely go to you and to His Serene Highness.”

Victoria gets to her feet, looking me over. “I can see that you truly love him, Felicity, I do,” she tells me. “And I shall see to it that your wedding is such a grand affair—”

“Small, please—Lord Wilhelm and I are agreed,” I say quickly. “We wish for it to be in the chapel of St. James’s Palace, with my mother, father, you, and His Serene Highness in attendance.”

Victoria smiles at me then. “You have set a date!” she cries.

I sigh, lowering my eyes. “My mother and father are due to come to London next week, as you know, and Lord Wilhelm and I were quite hoping that you and His Serene Highness would be open to—”

“Next week?” Victoria cries, shaking her head. “Oh, my... After the ceremony this afternoon, the seamstress shall see you. You will need a new gown, and the archbishop—well, I shall attend to that. We will simply go over to the palace in the evening, and you shall have your wedding ceremony—in your new finery—while I come up with a wonderful wedding present for the both of you.”

“You have given me a wedding present, Victoria—marrying for love,” I reply, and find that there are tears in my eyes.

Victoria smiles. “Yes, but Lady Marquardt sounds...” She shakes her head. “I have a mind to elevate you, Felicity,” she declares.

. . .

Although he was cross about his lack of funds as the husband of the Queen of England, Victoria and Prince Albert agreed to put on kind faces the following week when Wilhelm and I were to become man and wife. It was quite funny to see how shocked Mama and Papa were at the prospect of attending my wedding so quickly, but, since consent had been given, there was naught to stop anyone. Victoria spoke to the archbishop, and my dress was made, and, quite soon, the day in question had finally arrived to greet us all.

I left the palace with Victoria that evening; she, Mama, and I all went into one of the unmarked carriages at our disposal, and made our way down the street and around the corner to the palace. In another unmarked carriage, Papa, Prince Albert, and Wilhelm came from the opposite direction, so as I would not be seen. I kept a good grip upon the parcel in my hands, which carried my new gown, so as I would not ruin it in the journey.

We enter St. James’s Palace via the back door, making our way to a small room off the chapel, which the archbishop permitted for our use before the ceremony. I took off my gown with haste, standing there in my undergarments—also new from the seamstress—as Victoria and Mama painstakingly lifted the new gown upwards to put upon me. Victoria had insisted that her wedding dress was to be white, and quickly encouraged me to wear one as well. She explained that since it was not a public event, she did not mind me wearing a white gown before she did.

I lifted up my arms before the gown was placed over my head and moved into place, whereupon it was laced expertly by Mama, while Victoria removed a pearl necklace from her bodice. I gaped aloud and she grinned; she had seen me gazing upon this particular pearl necklace for years, and she leaned forward and clasped it around my neck. I gazed at myself in the mirror, fingering the pearls which now rested along my collar bone, and peeked at Victoria in the mirror as she placed a small, pearled coronet upon my hair.

“It is too much...” I whispered.

She smiled and shook her head, taking me by the hands. “Albert is informing Wilhelm as we speak, but I have spoken to parliament and they are in agreement of your title.”

“My title?” I ask.

“Parliament has formally agreed that I might make Wilhelm and yourself...Earl and Countess Marquardt,” she says, smiling at me.

“I would be a countess?” I whisper.

Victoria nods. “Yes, and you would receive a London residence, and a house in the country... I have taken the liberty of purchasing Rosings Park in Kent for you and for Wilhelm to live. Since your great-aunt has died and her daughter, Anne, was unmarried and left no heirs, it reverted to the original landowners. I have bought it for you, so as you may live in a home which belongs to your family, and you may have a place to retire whenever you wish.”

I turn to Mama, who smiles at me; she’d known the entire time, and had kept it from me, yet I understood why. Turning back to Victoria, my dearest friend in all the world, I went to my knees, taking her hand and kissing it. “There is nothing I may say or do that shall ever express my gratitude...” I whisper.

Victoria effortlessly pulls me to my feet, reaching into my parcel and puts my veil upon me. “Name your firstborn after me,” she jokes, looking me over then. “Are you prepared?” she asks.

I nod. “I am,” I reply.

Victoria and Mama take me by the arms and back towards the long hallway, which takes us to the entrance of the chapel, where I spot Papa awaiting us. Mama gives Papa a kiss on the cheek before walking into the chapel, and Victoria does the same, where she will stand with Prince Albert. Papa takes my arm and walks with me into the church, and I place my hand beneath his own. He peers at me through the veil and smiles at me, and I feel happiness that he is well enough to walk with me down the aisle as I go to marry Wilhelm.

“Do you like him?” I whisper, looking about. “Remember, to lie is a sin, and we are in the house of the Lord.”

“Very much,” Papa replies. “It was very generous of Her Majesty to create you a countess—and to buy you Rosings.” He beams. “It is wonderful to have it in the Darcy family again.”

“Of a sort,” I reply, turning to look up as I hear a boys’ choir singing. Turning back to my father, I ask, “May we?”

He nods, stepping forward. “We may.”

The walk into the chapel of St. James’s Palace is not a daunting one, and yet I feel my heart skip a beat when my eyes find Wilhelm’s for the first time. I find that I tighten my grip upon Papa’s arm, yet hastily turn it loose, so as not do frighten or hurt him, so quickly after his recovery. We continue through the church, and my eyes first meet Mama’s, then Victoria’s, and then Albert’s, before settling upon Wilhelm again. My heart skips a beat one last time as we approach, and Papa then removes my arm from the crook of his and hands me off before he moves to go and stand with Mama.

With every fiber of my being, I wished for Wilhelm to take my hand, and, mercifully, he did. He smiles at me and I return the smile, and hope that he can see me beneath the veil. I barely listen to the archbishop before us, although I know my time to speak will come, yet I find I am completely enraptured with Wilhelm that I cannot bring myself to look away. It is only when Wilhelm begins to speak again do I finally come completely back to life.

“I, Wilhelm Marquardt, take thee, Felicity Darcy, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; any thereto I plight thee my troth,” he says.

Immediately, I move to say my piece, not wanting anyone to think for a moment that I don’t wish to marry Wilhelm at any moment. “I, Felicity Darcy, take thee, Wilhelm Marquardt, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, to cherish, and to obey, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

The archbishop hands over the ring, placed upon the page of his bible, instructing Wilhelm to take it from him.

His hand steady, Wilhelm smiles at me before going solemn, slipping the ring onto my finger. “With this ring, I thee wed, with my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

We are then told to kneel before the archbishop, and I do so willingly. The warmth of Wilhelm’s hand in mine causes my heartbeat to flutter in my chest, for I still cannot believe my good fortune. With my future secure—married (or nearly so) to a wonderful man, we also had worthy income, a place to live and to raise our children together, and titles that were considered respectable.

Although I should not have, I considered Lehzen’s expression, and how it would look to her, now that the girl she hated was now a countess. I knew it was not an acceptable, nor a ladylike thing to consider—especially in the House of God—but I found I could not help myself. Baroness Lehzen was nothing but a jealous harpy, and while I possesses a great love for Victoria, I believed she would fully grow up and become the queen our good country deserved once she was dismissed. The very epitome of a viper, she was cruel to anyone who presented a barrier between her and Victoria. I did not envy Prince Albert’s future position.

Finally, Wilhelm and I were permitted back onto our feet, and he turned towards me then, lifting my veil carefully. I lowered my eyes, my lashes sweeping my cheeks and the cheeks themselves blooming at the notion of what was to come next. Wilhelm leaned forward then, and my eyes rose to catch his before they shut themselves and he brushed his lips with mine. I wanted more—in fact, I hungered for it—but such impure thoughts would not be rewarded.

Wilhelm’s hot hand upon my skin sent waves of pleasure flowing through me, and I had eyes for no one but him as we seemed to glide back up the aisle together. The ring did not feel heavy on my finger; rather, it felt weightless, although large enough for people to see that I belonged to him. Such a notion was breathtaking to me, as I’d never believed that such a one would come to pass for me. I was only twenty years of age, and my entire life was just beginning. With a stunningly handsome man on my arm, I immediately felt safe, knowing that Wilhelm could protect me from anyone and anything that came across our path, wishing to harm or to know us, and I was bound to him for life.

. . . 

I find my heart is racing once the ceremony has ended.

We have already had supper at Buckingham Palace, so when we return, all that is left to do is go to bed. Victoria and Prince Albert quickly separated after a quick good night, and Mama and Victoria accompanied me to my chambers to prepare me for bed. I was undressed quickly, and soon was relieved of my undergarments as well, before Victoria produced the beautiful nightgown for the night, with a lovely green silk ribbon, a color which had become my trademark. It was promptly put over my head, and then I was guided to the vanity table.

My hair bun was taken down, the raven locks going down around my shoulders, tickling my arms. I recalled Conroy doing this same thing and I shuddered, and Mama and Victoria, naturally, believed it was from the cold and from fear. Mama hastily put another log onto the fire, as Victoria removed the coronet and necklace and placed them into my jewelry box. I looked up at her and found my mouth falling open in shock.

“I cannot—” I whispered.

Victoria smiled. “Think of it as another odd trinket,” she replied.

I nodded, turning to see Mama pulling down the coverlet of my large bed, large enough for two, and I bit my lip, gripping the back of the chair in a moment of anticipation of the events ahead. Mama and Victoria urged me into bed and I obeyed, the floor cold upon my feet as I stepped towards the bed, careful not to awake Flight from her spot on the window embrasure. I sat in my bed, pulling up the coverlet to nearly my neck as I heard footsteps outside, and Mama turned to look at Victoria.

Victoria smiled and waved to me, before pulling Mama outside the other door, hidden behind a tapestry. I turned to look at the door, which opened slowly, and Wilhelm himself stood there, candle in his hand. There was a second candle upon my vanity table, and a third beside me on my night table. I lifted my candle to my face as Wilhelm did to his own, and we shared a smile in the semi-darkness. He crossed the room then, blowing out the candle upon the vanity table and crossing to the other side of the bed, hesitating.

I reached out then, gently pulling the other side of the coverlet back. “Will you not join me, husband?” I asked, softly.

Wilhelm smiled, setting his candle on the other night table. “I would like to.”

“Please,” I said softly, placing my hand in the empty space beside me.

Wilhelm smiled, gently pulling at his jacket and trousers. Next came his boots and his socks and soon he stood here in merely his nightshirt. He let out a lighthearted chuckle as I looked away with a slight giggle of my own, at the sight of his legs beneath the long shirt. He removes this as well, and hesitates before getting into bed beside me, before I look at him again. Wilhelm then reaches out, taking my face into his palm and kissing me, and I feel a wave of comfort in this loving, yet simple, gesture.

In the darkness, I found my hands wandering to touch him, and find I like what I am feeling. Carefully, his own hands reach out to me, and I gasp at his touch upon my arms and legs. He giggles into my mouth, and I find my hands finding his in the semi-darkness, and pull them to the hem of my nightgown, before pulling back and nodding my assent as his hesitation. Finally, his grip upon the hem tightens and he pulls it up and over my head, gazing at me in the candlelight for the first time, as I do to him.

“Meine geliebte,” he whispers, touching the back of my neck.

“Mein Wilhelm,” I whisper back, before pulling him close to me as the candles are soon snuffed out on their own.

. . .

We are permitted to go to Rosings Park before the week is out and, although willing for us to leave, Victoria is very sorry I shall miss her wedding. I send her my love and swear to write to her, and she agrees to allow me to leave court. I feel satisfied, riding out of there just two days after my wedding to inspect my new home, as a countess. On the road to Kent, we hear the townspeople speak of almost nothing but Victoria’s wedding, and I smile at the notion that both the Queen of England and I have achieved great happiness.

Their wedding day comes and goes, and I send my best wishes, as does Wilhelm, and promise to return to court soon. I send away to London for a beautiful necklace to replace the one Victoria gave to me, and she sends me a beautiful letter in return, letting me know she received it and adores it. I feel badly for taking Flight away from Dash, but know that their friendship can stand the separation, as can mine and Victoria’s. The rest of February flits by quickly, and March looms large, and then April, and I have never been happier.

It is one evening in the early weeks of May when Wilhelm has been in London for the entire day and I am worried because I have been ill for weeks and I feel as if I shall surely die. I summon a physician from London and ask him for a remedy, and, after bleeding me and asking me a series of questions, he made a diagnosis. I found I was sobbing thereafter, and the physician promptly took his leave, not knowing what to do with a weeping countess in Kent. I sent for Wilhelm as quickly as I could, after the weeping had subsided enough to get a good grip upon a pen.

_Wilhelm—_

_Return to Rosings Park at once._

_I need you home._

_The physician has come, and we need to speak._

_Your wife,_

_Lady Felicity, Countess Marquardt_

I did not even bother to remedy the fact that my tears had made contact with the parchment, and quickly sealed it with wax and with my new ring. I sent if off with my messenger to London, and Wilhelm returned with him in under two hours. I was sitting in the drawing room—my second favorite room in the house—with Flight just beside me. She had not left my side since the physician had left, and I think she feared my silence and my sobbing. When Wilhelm entered the drawing room, he immediately knelt at my feet, concern etched into his face.

“Meine geliebte, what is wrong?” he asks, clutching at my hands. “I see you have been weeping... What has happened?”

I raise my eyes to his, fighting for no more tears to come. As I speak, my voice cracks from my sobs, and I manage to clear my throat to say what needs to be said immediately. “Wilhelm, I am with child...” I whisper.

Wilhelm pulls me into his arms. “Meine geliebte...” He whispers.

I throw my arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. “I never feared childbirth until I served Victoria... She fears it, you know,” I say, muffling my sobs into his expensive jacket. “I fear I shall die...”

“Nein,” Wilhelm says immediately, pulling back and taking my face into his hands, looking up at me with such warmth and affection. “You shall not die, Felicity, I swear it. For I shall be with you...”

“The physician said by October,” I say softly. “We shall have our baby in October...” I trail off, gripping at his hands. “I don’t want you going off to London and leaving me again, Wilhelm. I need you...”

Wilhelm smiles. “Her Majesty and His Serene Highness did not summon me to court for nothing,” he replies.

I blink. “What?” I ask him.

“Her Majesty is with child as well,” he replies. “The physicians have stated that she shall have it in November.”

I let out a small gasp then, lowering my hands to my belly, a small curve to it already, and find I am smiling down at it. “Victoria,” I whisper to it. “We shall call it Victoria if she is a girl...”

“And Albert for a boy?” Wilhelm asks.

I smile at my husband. “Perhaps, although I rather like the sound of Wilhelm Franz Bernard Rudolf Marquardt,” I put in.

Wilhelm immediately grabs me then, planting kiss after kiss upon my mouth, while I laugh, he chuckles, and Flight barks.


	6. The Countess and the Queen

_Dear Victoria,_

_I am so pleased at your news; Wilhelm came at the run to inform me of it. I am quite sure that you and His Serene Highness are quite gladdened at this turn of events, and I know you shall do well by them. You are my dearest friend, and I shall be praying for you day and night for your ease._

_I do not know if Wilhelm has informed His Serene Highness of it, but I am also carrying a child. The physicians say that I must be careful, and I am only permitted a short walk on the grounds in the afternoon, but only if it is not too cold. As such, they’ve forbidden me to travel outside of Kent. I would do anything to return to court, Victoria, but one must not disobey the words of the physicians, who truly know all things in these matters. _

_It is quite funny, I feel, to wander about the manor and the grounds rather like a duck, for I seem to walkabout like them more and more each day. I am quite sure that you do not walkabout in such a way, and even if you walked in a different way, it would be as a swan or as a phoenix, not a lowly duck. As for me, I am quite all right with being seen as a duck, and this duck shall continue to write and be called to court as soon as I am able._

_Your ever-loyal friend,_

_Lady Felicity, Countess Marquardt_

May had flitted by as quickly as it had arrived, and June and the warmth of summer officially overtook the English countryside. Although Victoria requested that Wilhelm and I travel at least to our house in London, I found that the physician would not even allow me that luxury, even if I swore not to ride a horse. I can feel my belly doubling in size as June continues, and I wonder how on earth Wilhelm will ever love me again. I turn away from him at night, and for many nights afterwards, for I feel that he will not wish to look upon me at all.

“Meine geliebte, what have I done to offend you?” he asks, placing a hand on my shoulder after nearly a week of me doing this. “Is it because you are too tired to talk in the evenings?”

“Of course I am tired,” I snap back, tears flowing, unseen, from my eyes.

“Meine geliebte, please,” Wilhelm says softly. He manages to turn me about to look at him, and I keep my eyes lowered until he gently pushes my chin up. “How have I offended you, Felicity?”

“You have not,” I reply. “It is only...”

“What?” he asks.

“How can you possibly look upon me in the same way?” I demand of him, my voice never raising above a whisper. “I am becoming as large as a plow-horse, and you cannot—”

“Cannot what, meine geliebte?” he asks, likely smirking at the very comparison of me to a plow horse.

“Cannot love me when I am like this!” I cry out, my voice breaking as I stare up at him in the semi-darkness. “The size of a plow-horse...” I smack the bolster beneath me, discouraged. “You’ll likely run off now... Run off to a beautiful German maiden—or a French one, with blonde hair and immaculate—”

Wilhelm reaches out then, placing a hand upon my belly, before he leans forward and kisses it, and I find myself quite at a loss for words at this unexpected, yet sweet, gesture towards me. “This gift you have given me, my darling, is the most precious thing any man could ever want or ask for,” he tells me simply. “I could not, nor could I ever, think you were more beautiful.”

I raise my eyes to his, and find that my lip is trembling. “What... What if it turns out not to be a son?” I whisper.

“You are merely twenty-one-years of age, Felicity,” Wilhelm tells me gently. “I think there will be time for a boy after this one.”

“My grandmother on my mother’s side had five daughters. What if I can only provide you with daughters?” I ask him.

Wilhelm grins up at me before closing the distance between us and kisses me. “I shall not think on that, for it does not matter to me,” he replies. “The queen allowed us to bequeath Rosings Park to whomever we see fit. If we have five daughters, then it shall go to the eldest or we shall split it up equally among them. I have no qualms about you giving me merely daughters, Felicity, and neither should you. Even if we have five, ten, or twenty daughters, I’ll not care, for in all the world, I only want you.”

“And our daughters, should I only provide you with them?” I ask, just wanting to hear his affirmation again.

He smiles, never wavering. “But of course,” he replies. “I want nothing but what you can give me, and if it is daughters, so be it.”

. . .

When the physician came to see me at the end of July, he further decides to limit my walks in the gardens with Flight, and insisted that I only do so three times a week instead of each day. This pregnancy was progressing quickly, according to him, and he wanted no harm to come to my child. Despite my protests, Wilhelm was fully prepared to honor the physician’s wishes, and I, in irritation, wrote about my pregnancy woes. Victoria did her best to be patient with me, but as we were both with child, it was difficult to be so.

August began and I was still permitted to walk in the gardens three times a week, although I was still very tired by the end of each day. Wilhelm was called to London again at the end of the month and, as Papa was feeling better, my husband asked me to send for my mother and father for company. Surprisingly, my mother and father were delighted with the invitation and I had the servants prepare the second-best rooms in the place for them both. I had felt the child move about inside me for the past several weeks, and was quite eager to see how Mama and Papa believed me to look while I was carrying Wilhelm’s child.

My husband left for London in the final week of August, while Mama wrote to me that she and Papa would arrive the following week. I spent my time organizing the nursery—which had not been in use since my cousin, Anne, had been born nearly sixty years before—ordering specific meals from the kitchens, and playing games with Flight that did not tire me out so easily. I also spent my time making lists about tutors for my children, deciding that they, too should learn a multitude of languages to make their learning as appropriate as possible. Now that I was a countess, I had access to such people more easily.

Mama and Papa arrived in the first week of September, while I had already begun the final household preparations before I was due to give birth. Mama was shocked to see me so much about the house as when she had given birth to me—as she informed me via letter just a few months ago—that I was not to be considered the only casualty when she gave birth to me. Mama confessed that she, too nearly died after the birth, as she was older than most mothers are suggested to be. I had felt terrible at receiving such news; not only because such a thing had been kept from me, but the time it had been so. Now, that I was pregnant with my first child, she chose to tell me of such a horrible thing...

Papa embraced me and said I looked lovely, although he did not comment directly on the state of me, as such things were considered inappropriate. “I see you’ve set up tea in the drawing room,” he says conversationally, striding in. “Ah, Flight!” he says with joy, and my little spaniel immediately stands at attention, always liking my father.

“He is well, Mama?” I ask softly as I watch him interact with my dog. “Your letters were vague, even when I did question you directly of his condition, which was not strong just a year ago...”

Mama takes my arm and walks slowly into the drawing room with me. “Yes, he is well,” she assures me, “but you need not worry about it. You’re about to have a family of your own soon, and you must not be troubled.” She pushes me gently into the couch, making sure I had pillows stacked all around me, before pouring me a cup of tea and handing it over to me with a slice of sponge cake. “Right, Mr. Darcy?” Mama asks, turning to Papa.

“Quite right, Mrs. Darcy,” Papa says, giving a quick smile to Mama before turning back to Flight. “You still give her chicken livers?”

“On Sundays,” I say softly, “and on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—although Her Majesty spoils Dash a bit more, and allows him to eat them more often. But my Fight still quite adores them, Flighty does.”

“And the queen writes to you, Felicity?” Mama asks. “When shall she be delivered of her first child?”

“Not until November,” I reply, putting a hand upon my belly as I feel the child move within me. “I had hoped to be at court with her, but Wilhelm sends his regrets whenever he attends to His Serene Highness. Prince Albert conveys messages from the queen himself, which Wilhelm relays to me, about her sympathy and wish for my hasty arrival back to court at my leisure. For, who knows, perhaps the next time I have a child, I may do so at court,” I joke, and Mama twitters from next to me, while Papa hides his smile.

“How long are we welcome to stay?” Papa asks.

“He means, ‘When is Wilhelm returning from London’?” Mama says, sipping her tea with a glint in her eye.

“He is to be gone a fortnight,” I reply with a knowing look towards Papa, which he does not catch. “But Wilhelm encourages you to stay longer...”

“For the birth?” Mama asks, and Papa immediately snaps his head to look at her thoughtfully. “You would want me here?”

“Well, yes, of course,” I reply, finding my hand upon my belly again. “It is my first child, after all, and I feel that some comfort would be welcoming...”

“You will have Wilhelm with you, in the room, of course?” Papa asks. “As modern custom dictates?”

“We’ve discussed it, yes, Papa,” I tell him. “And yes, Wilhelm wishes to be beside me throughout the birth.”

“Is that how things are done in Germany?” Mama asks, not unkindly. “A husband may be beside a wife whilst she gives him an heir?”

“I know that Wilhelm’s father was content to leave his mother shut up in rooms for weeks while she gave birth to three sons in quick succession, and then refused to touch her after the birth of Wilhelm’s younger brother, Ferdinand,” I reply with contempt, and shake my head. “Then he married Charles’s betrothed and had three daughters with her, but stayed by her side for each birth...”

“Probably hoping for a son,” Papa said nastily. “Terrible man.”

“You’re just pleased that I provided you with one immediately,” Mama says, and swats Papa gently upon his arm.

Papa grins at Mama. “I thank heaven for Fitzwilliam the Younger each and every day, although I’ve always had a soft spot for Felicity, as you well know,” Papa says, turning to wink at me.

“What shall you call the child, Felicity?” Mama asks.

“Victoria for a girl, of course,” I reply, running my fingertips along my swollen belly thoughtfully. “Wilhelm has requested Albert for a boy.”

“And other names?” Papa asks.

“I quite liked Victoria Henrietta, for it has such a pleasant ring to it,” I say with a smile at the very thought of it. “And for a son, Wilhelm and I have decided upon Albert Wilhelm.”

“You shall not do more names?” Mama asks.

I shake my head at her with a smile. “Victoria merely had two names, and she became Queen of England,” I reply without hesitation. “Who is to say my children cannot achieve greatness with only two names?”

. . . 

Wilhelm returned from court in London as scheduled, and Mama agreed to stay behind for the birth, while business at Pemberley called Papa back. He would not say what it was, but he promised to returned to Rosings Park as quickly as possible to meet my first child. In the final week of September, I found walking long ways to be a torment, and when the physician was summoned, he told me that I must remain in bed until the birth. He recommended a midwife to come and stay at the manor, to be there when my pains began. Mama told me that I would simply know when they began, but I never expected to know such a thing.

I was feeling better on the final day of September, and rose at down, something I had not had the strength to do in weeks. Dressing quickly in the darkness without assistance from a maid, I made a grab for Flight and slipped from my rooms, where my husband was still asleep. Careful to keep Flight quiet, we slipped down the corridor and down the staircase, before going out the garden door attached to the drawing room. The sun rose over the tops of the trees, the cool late September air doing wonders for my lungs. I walked along with Flight, who was excited to be out of doors with me again, and who barked happily at the prospect.

I urged Flight to keep silent, hardly knowing what would happen if we were caught wandering about the gardens without a proper escort. Flight would stop every few feet and smell behind various boulders which dotted the gardens; inevitably, they were always there, and she had smelled them countless times before, but it mattered naught to her. She would turnabout every now and again, just to be sure that I was still watching her. I smiled and bent to pick up a stick, which I tossed in the air for her, and she took off, barking excitedly, in order to catch the piece of wood I’d thrown for her to play with.

As I watched her run, I let out a laugh, arching my body and throwing my head back, the cool air entering my lungs. It was then that I felt a crushing pain in my abdomen, and I nearly doubled over from the shock of it all. I soon found myself gripping my belly then as Flight suddenly ran forward, the stick in between her small teeth, looking up at me to throw it again. I ignored her request, instead approaching the garden wall and leaning up against it, attempting to catch my breath. Flight whined at being ignored, dropping the stick and approaching me, pressing her wet nose to the hems of my skirts and proceeding to paw at them, not enjoying this treatment.

The pains subsequently got worse, and I found myself frequently breathing through my teeth before looking upwards at the nearly cloudless sky. “God in heaven help me,” I whispered. “I pray you, help me...”

The door to the garden crashed open and I immediately straightened up, seeing Wilhelm standing there. “Meine geliebte, it is far too cold for a walk in the gardens. Come inside now,” he says, offering me a hand, and summoning Flight with a slight whistle.

I move to walk to him but am suddenly gripped with the pain once again, and, at once, I look up at Wilhelm with fear. “I’m sorry,” I say, fighting to breathe. “I’m sorry—they’ve only just started... Ah!” I cry, doubling over in pain this time as Wilhelm steps forward. “Wilhelm!” I cry out, only to be seized with another wave of pain as he lifts me upwards and into the house, managing to pull the garden door shut behind him, Flight following in our wake.

“I’ll not having you hurting yourself,” he says through his teeth, taking me through the drawing room and towards the staircase. “Have the midwife brought to our rooms at once!” he shouts to one of the maids, who was walking by. “The child is coming!”

To her credit, the maid scurries off to find the midwife as Wilhelm brings me up the stairs, when Mama’s chamber door opens, and she sees what is happening. “I’ll help,” she says, at once taking charge. “We will need fresh water and towels—tell a maid!” she orders, shooing him out.

“No!” I scream as another wave of pain washes over me. “Mama! Mama, I need him, Mama!” I scream, my forehead covered in sweat as I am promptly pushed onto the bed.

Mama shushes me gently, pulling the coverlet back and exposing the sheets before ripping it off the bed entirely and placing it across the room. She then gets me out of my cloak, gown, stockings, and shoes quickly and efficiently, until I am laying there in my undergarments. Mama fetches a nightgown, which pulls over my head before removing the undergarments. I am much more comfortable now, but I could do without the sweating and the constant pain.

“Wilhelm will be back soon,” she assures me and, sure enough, he bursts through the door, with the fresh water and towels.

Although I am relieved at seeing him—and the midwife, who comes at his heels—I am beyond words. I manage to extend my arms far enough for them to see that I want him beside me, and he quickly moves to my side. Tears cloud my vision as I faintly feel the midwife pushing my legs apart to inspect me, tutting to herself as she makes a grab for a towel and some water. I stiffen at the warmth below and feel as if nothing but pain is happening.

The midwife says it will be a while, and leaves the room, and I am left writhing in pain for what seems like hours on end. I see through the trickle of light coming in through the curtains, and see the day going by quickly. The sun sets and the moon rises, and still I writhe in pain. Mama tells Wilhelm that I’m losing blood fast, and I find I am becoming less and less coherent as the hours go on. The midwife returns when night falls, inspecting me quickly, and it is then that I feel almost as if something is tearing me in to two pieces. The midwife lets out a gasp and forces my legs open again.

“The head is coming,” she informs my mother.

“Felicity,” Mama says, and I manage to look at her. “Squeeze our hands—let us help you, darling. Squeeze them.”

“Wilhelm,” I sob, and my husband mercifully holds me closer to him. “Never again—please tell me, never again...”

“Whatever you want, meine geliebte,” he replies, kissing my forehead.

I let out a scream then, clasping to both their hands as hard as I dared, feeling something slither out of me in the moments that follow.

“God be praised,” the midwife says to the squalling infant in her hands as I fall back against the bolsters, breathing with relief. The midwife cleans up the mite and smacks it on the bottom when it doesn’t cry out immediately. The shattering cry of an infant fills the room and my ears, and the midwife lets out a lighthearted chuckle before wrapping the baby up and handing it to me. “It’s a girl,” she says, nodding in approval. “She is strong.”

“A girl...” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Victoria Henrietta...” I whisper, ogling her perfect little face.

“My darling girl,” Wilhelm says, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “Pretty as her mother...”

It is when, just a moment later, I am seized with the same kind of pain that Mama promptly takes the baby and promptly whisks her away to the other side of my bedchamber. I make a grab for Wilhelm’s hand then, squirming to figure out what is happening. “What is it?” I demand of the midwife, struggling to see as the pain grows stronger. “What’s wrong?”

The midwife bends to examine me again, and lets out a gasp. She grips my ankles to help me in keeping my legs open, and looks shocked. “Push!” she orders me then and I fall back on the bolsters, tears flooding my eyes and my vision as I obey her direct command. “Push!” she yells again.

“Wilhelm!” I scream as I feel something come forth, and fall back against the bolsters again, exhausted.

“God in heaven, hallelujah,” the midwife declares. She holds something aloft for a moment before I see that she is holding a second baby, which she painstakingly cleans off before handing to me. “It’s a boy, countess,” she proclaims.

“A boy...my boy,” Wilhelm whispers, kissing this child.

“Albert Wilhelm,” I whisper, as Mama returns Victoria Henrietta to me. “And my Victoria Henrietta,” I say, managing to take them both in my arms. “I think it right if call them Willy and Toria,” I say softly, “so as to distinguish them both from the royal couple,” I declare, quickly turning to look at Wilhelm. “That is, of course, if their father permits such a thing.”

“I permit it,” Wilhelm replies, enraptured in his two children. We barely hear the midwife and Mama slip out of the room, as we both gaze at these two small things we ourselves have created. “You have given me an heir twice over,” he marvels, never taking his eyes off of them.

“I shall write to the queen, if I may,” I say quietly, leaning down and brushing my lips upon their foreheads. “I would tell them of our good fortune, and of the good fortune awaiting them.”

“Of course, my love, but now you must rest,” Wilhelm rules. “The wet nurse will be brought forth immediately.”

“Thank you,” I reply, turning to look up at him, and find I cannot cease in my constant smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies, leaning down and kissing me. “Thank you for making me a grand papa.”

“Thank you for making me a loving mama,” I say simply.

. . . 

I was arisen from my bed the day following the birth, and permitted to go down to the parsonage on the grounds of Rosings Park, where my mother’s cousin, William Collins, was permitted to perform my churching ceremony. It was quite a bothersome and trivial thing, for all I wanted was to spend time with Wilhelm and my babies, until such a time as Victoria summoned me back to her side. It was not a terribly long ceremony, however, and it seemed to be over just as it had begun. I dared not think of the centuries-ago, Catholic equivalent of such a thing, where a woman had to lie back and be cleaned for what seemed like hours on end. Now, I merely had to listen to Mr. Collins, and to absolve myself of sin by merely speaking in acknowledgement of it, before I was permitted to leave.

I spent the rest of the day commanding the servants, for now I was permitted to eat and drink whatever I wanted or liked. A grand dinner had been prepared, and Papa had returned from Pemberley to greet Toria and Willy prior to their christening, which was to be held the following week, three days before Wilhelm and I intended to return to court. Mama was absolutely doting on the babies, and the look that Papa gave her was one of such love and adoring that I hoped and prayed for a long and successful marriage between Wilhelm and me. As we four sat down to dinner—after Toria and Willy had been returned to the nursery—I felt my cheeks bloom with color as Wilhelm raised his glass to me, informing me of how proud he was of me, and that he looked forward to having our children grow up healthy and well.

The following day, when Wilhelm took Papa out hunting, and Mama was looking in on the twins, I thought it right to send a letter to Victoria. I wanted to know how she was faring at this late stage of her pregnancy, and if she was permitted to get up at all. Perhaps, as she was a monarch, she would be able to have more rights when it came to pregnancy habits.

_Dearest Victoria,_

_Wilhelm and I are pleased to say that exactly two days ago, he and I were blessed twice over, with a daughter we call Victoria Henrietta, and a son which we call Albert Wilhelm. It was quite a surprise, as I initially believed that twins were rare things, but I heard from Mama that they are merely not spoken of as often. Mama and Wilhelm were with me for the entire birth, although business at Pemberley called Papa back rather unexpectedly. All went well, and I was churched just the day before, and the christening is to be held next week._

_Do share your news with me, my friend. How is His Serene Highness, and is married life as wonderful as I think? I realize I only speak on my own marriage experience, as well as watching Mama and Papa ever since I was a little girl, but I do hope yours is all the better for it. It is happiness in life, Victoria, which a few select people deserve, and you deserve it most surely of all. As our reigning monarch, nobody’s life or marriage should be as blessed as your own. I pray for you by night, while in the day I sing your praises, looking forward to returning to your services._

_Your ever-loyal friend,_

_Lady Felicity, Countess Marquardt _

After sending the letter to London via messenger, I made my way to the nursery, where Mama was sitting and singing softly to the twins. I approached the crib then and peered inside of it, my heart filling with warmth for these two beautiful beings I’d successfully created. They each made small noises between them, their quick little fingers gripping one another’s, and when I reached in, my own finger as well was promptly grabbed.

“They are well,” my mother asserts quietly. “I’ve not seen a healthier infant since Alexandra was delivered of Honor.”

“Are Grace, Mercy, and James not well?” I ask, my heart momentarily squeezing for the plight of my nieces and nephew.

My mother shrugs. “You know as well as I do—from my letters regarding James and your own witnessing of Grace and Mercy—that those three are sickly children and that Honor is the most likely to inherit from Fitzwilliam the Younger,” she replies with a sniff. “Honor is kind and well-liked, to be sure, and yet she’s beginning to possess that simpering quality that Alexandra possesses. She is even more reserved than Jane and Charles, and sending her to that Catholic nunnery for the first fourteen years of her life didn’t help matters either.”

“Are you saying Alexandra is a Puritan, Mama?” I ask.

Mama sighs. “I’m not saying anything of the sort about my niece, now my daughter-in-law,” she replies patiently. “Although I do suspect that she may not be a good future Viscountess Pemberley, based on how much she favors James and ignores her daughters...”

“James is merely a child,” I say softly. “Of course he needs Alexandra around—as much as a mother should be—in the early days...”

Mama shakes her head. “It is more than that...”

“What could be more?” I ask.

Mama bites her lip, turning towards the shut door behind us, whereupon she crosses to the windows, and seeing that Wilhelm and Papa are still on their horses, hunting at the edge of our land. “Alexandra is in the nursery all the time now,” she admits quietly. “She refuses all invitations—to the christening next week, to anything Caroline sends out, and she dotes on Alexandra, and ever since she wed Colonel Fitzwilliam just after Fitzwilliam the Younger is born...” My mother tuts then, shaking her head. “She does not even visit Fitzwilliam the Younger in their shared bedroom anymore—she has had a bed moved into the nursery, and all but refuses to leave James’s side...”

“But you said so yourself that James is a frail child—”

“Grace and Mercy were born frail as well, and Alexandra never doted on them at all—not once. Not even for their own christenings or for any birthdays. A light kiss on the cheek for one of them or for herself, and that is all. She never holds them, or comforts them, or even attempts to draw conversation from them.”

“But she doesn’t hurt them?” I press her.

“Not physically—I don’t think Alexandra would stand for that,” she replies. “She does speak to Honor on occasion, but only when she wants to know something about or for James.”

“What does my brother Fitzwilliam say?”

“He does not mind—it gives him more opportunities in London. He has been talking with His Serene Highness for a position at court. I feel as if he wishes to leave off and go far...”

“He is forty years of age, Mama,” I say, shaking my head. “Perhaps the age difference, however, will be that of comfort from His Serene Highness, and perhaps he will be able to learn from my brother...”

“Perhaps,” Mama allows. “Perhaps this will end quickly, and we shall not speak of this in the years to come...”

“And Papa?” I ask, bending down and kissing each twin as they proceed to fall into sleep. “What does Papa say of all this?”

Mama proceeds to draw me out of the nursery then, arm around my shoulders. “I know he would not wish me to speak of it at all,” she tells me. “He would call me ‘my dear’ and inform me that I am turning into my mother by merely speaking to you of this...”

“It is not for common gossiping purposes!” I say sharply, outraged. “You are merely speaking to me of it for you are apprehensive about Alexandra’s rather odd behavior...”

“I am,” Mama assures me, “but I find it most unlikely that your father will even attempt to think of it that way.”

. . .

_Dearest Felicity,_

_I will admit to you that merely lying in bed, while affording me many hours of thinking, is truly a torment for me. I would love nothing more than for you to return to court at your earliest convenience, and Albert is adamant that you and Lord Wilhelm shall have new apartments close to our own. We shall dine in my presence chamber upon your return, my dear friend, and I know there will be much to discuss in the interim._

_I am so sorry that I could not bring myself to Kent to witness the wonderful occasion of your son and daughter’s christening, but I do hope the silver spoons and embroidered linens help ease the situation. I am not familiar with many twins myself, but I swear to you, they shall both be companions to my dear children. I find I like the names Toria and Willy, although Albert and I have not formally selected a name yet. I believe he will wish to see the face of our schönes säugling before a final decision is made._

_Questions are peppered to me day by day, and now that I have Albert, Lord M has made himself scarce. Perhaps it is for the better, as Albert himself was never really fond of him, as you well know. I do know, Felicity, however, that he is most fond of you, and I believe he prefers Englishman to Germans—with the exception of you and Wilhelm, and of course, his brother, Ernest. We shall expect you in due haste by the end of the week, and yet I know that I can count on you to arrive much sooner to ease my suffering for company._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Victoria, Queen of Many Things and friend of the Countess of Marquardt_


	7. Bittersweet Interlude

The food given to us by Prince Albert gave me strength on the journey to Rosings, and I vowed to myself that I would not let Willy die. I kept my head bowed in prayer as the carriage went along the wet roads, the wheels getting caught now and again in potholes and the horses whinnying in discomfort at being trapped out in the rain. I raised my eyes to Wilhelm’s after what seemed like hours, as he reached across the carriage to me, taking his hand in mine and running his thumb over my knuckles in a comforting manner.

As the carriage moved, I carefully got to my feet and switched sides, sitting down next to him and placing my head upon his shoulder. Tears clouded my vision again as I did so, feeling so utterly despondent at the potential loss of our son. I’d barely known him, or Toria, and yet I knew I would lay down my life for them. I could not go on without Wilhelm, and of course more children could be had, but none would replace the boy who was an exact copy of his father. It was just the early days of his existence, and to have them potentially cut short was reminiscent of a dagger in my heart, and I hoped that the physician was reputable.

Finally, the arrival at Rosings Park came and the footman came around the carriage to let us out of our boxed prison. Before Wilhelm could attempt to get to his feet and step out and help me down, I flew through the door, jumping down from the space, as the stairs had not yet been lowered. I dashed through the small outside area, rain dropping down upon me and slipping in the back of my traveling cloak and into my gown as I ran towards the door. It came open as I stepped onto the threshold, and I ran in immediately, throwing off my hat and cape as I ran towards the staircase. I felt a gasp escape my throat as a door opened and Mama stood there before descending the staircase part way and embracing me.

“Mama, what is happening?” I whispered.

“The physician has not left Willy’s side,” she said, looking up as Wilhelm stepped inside behind me. “Dear God, what happened, Wilhelm?” she demanded, getting a good look at his arm for the first time.

“It must look worse than it feels, Mama,” he said presently to her, mounting the stairs behind me and crossing to us, kissing her upon the cheek. “Took a rubber bullet in the arm while the queen and prince were in the park earlier this afternoon, but I am to be made Knight of the Garter.”

“A fine trade that makes,” my mother scolded, shaking her head and reaching out to feel Wilhelm’s arm and, thankfully, he did not wince. “Well, the court physician seems to have bandaged you up properly, but I should think you are due for another one. Come—I shall change it myself.”

“And Willy, Mama?” I asked.

“Go to him now—he is in the nursery,” she replied, putting an arm around Wilhelm and taking him to a room at the end of the corridor, while maids and footmen entered the house with our luggage.

“Take that bag after them, please,” I said to the footman who carried the bag containing Wilhelm’s bandages and sterilization essentials.

“Yes, my lady countess,” the footman replied, going after Wilhelm and my mother to the end of the corridor, and I find I cannot bring myself to correct him.

Taking up my mud-splattered skirts, I sighed, knowing that I should not enter a sickroom in traveling clothes, so I made my way to my chambers, where a maid was already awaiting me. I gave the instructions for a simple black gown to be put upon me and, once I was laced properly into it—along with fresh shoes and stockings—I left my chambers, pinning my braid into a bun against the back of my head as I entered the nursery. The physician stood above Willy’s small bed, as my baby coughed and struggled to fight the infection.

“Ah, my lady countess, you’ve arrived,” the physician said.

“I came as quickly as I could do, doctor,” I replied.

He nodded. “Yes, of course.”

I walked up beside him then, staring down at little Willy in his crib, my eyes filling with tears at the look of him, and I shivered. “Please tell me you can save him,” I whispered. “Please tell me you will be able to.”

“The tide could turn towards or against us, my lady countess,” the physician replied patiently, gravity in his voice. “The most important thing is to keep young master Albert cool when he needs it, and warm when he needs it. Time will tell, and we must keep a close eye upon him—”

“So, you don’t know?” I whisper, unable to keep my voice from shaking as I look down upon Willy then. “You don’t know whether or not you will be able to save my son?”

The physician shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I do not—and no physician would tell you different, Lady Felicity, for to tell you differently would be to tell you a falsehood, and I swore never to do so in my years of medicine.”

I grip the sides of Willy’s small bed, attempting to keep myself standing. “But, you shall do everything in your power to save him?” I ask, turning to look at him, my lower lip trembling. “Every trick you know—every medicinal secret—you shall use to ensure my son is saved?”

The physician managed a sad smile. “Yes, of course, my lady countess. I shall ensure to use every trick and secret I know. But I cannot undo God’s will, my lady countess.”

I shake my head, lowering my eyes to Willy, who shakes and coughs from beneath the thin blanket wrapped around him—I’d stitched it myself when I was carrying him and Toria, what seemed like a lifetime ago. “No, even you cannot undo God’s will, doctor,” I reply, the tears falling unbidden from my eyes.

. . . 

It was on the day we received news from court that Victoria had given birth to a healthy daughter, Princess Victoria, that we buried Willy. His little headstone read ALBERT WILHELM MARQUARDT, beloved son of Wilhelm and Felicity Marquardt, beloved twin of Victoria Henrietta Marquardt, and beloved grandchild born of the lines of Marquardt and Darcy. His funeral was a crippling experience; everyone was swathed in black, and to stand there as the snow fell around us was a daunting experience.

I knew then that Willy would have loved the snow, which made the entire funeral a bittersweet experience. As everyone crowded around the little hole, the men dropped earth upon it and the women dropped dried flowers upon it. The dried flowers symbolized death, and I refused to touch one, or to throw it down upon the coffin that held my little son. All the thoughts swarming my mind then were that I had failed and succeeded in the job of a wife in no more than a month. Not only had I given Wilhelm an heir at once, but he had been snatched away so quickly that he did not experience very much of life at all.

Papa had arrived from Pemberley the day before, holding little Toria close to him, and I embraced my daughter. All of our belongings which had made contact with Willy and his sickroom had been burned, so I was free to hold my daughter to me once again. I tried my best not to sob in front of her, for although she was an infant, I knew full well she would become upset. Toria stared up at me with those wide, dark eyes of hers; it was a miracle that she resembled all of me and none of Willy, for I don’t believe I could have handled such a thing with grace.

As the month of November drew to a close, I found myself ridged around Wilhelm and could not even begin to fathom how our lives were to continue. He sensibly stayed the night in another chamber at Rosings, sensing my need for time apart, but after a week he returned to our bedchamber. I said nothing of it, and did not speak to him as the days drew to a close.

“You shall have to speak to me sometime, Felicity.”

“Must I?” I whispered.

“Yes,” Wilhelm replied, reaching over and attempting to take me by the hand. “I want to help you, Felicity. Please allow me to do so.”

“How?” I ask him softly. “How do you propose to help me?”

“By attempting to understand what it is you’re feeling, and then explain my thoughts to you,” he replies. “Come, now. we owe it to one another to understand how we are coping with Willy’s—”

“Don’t,” I said, turning to look upon him at last. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it, Wilhelm, I beg you.”

Wilhelm looks at me, overcome with sorrow. “We must learn to say it eventually, my darling. I know it is painful to hear and consider, but—”

“He was my son,” I whisper then, my eyes filling with tears and my voice beginning to tremble as I spoke. “He was my son, and I gave birth to him and you shall never have what I had with him.”

“He was my son, too, Felicity,” Wilhelm replied. “He was just as much my son as he was your son.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand. You will never have the luxury of carrying a child and birthing them, and that moment of overwhelming joy that sweeps over you after your ordeal, when they are presented to you for the first time, knowing you created that being...”

“Please understand me, Felicity, I know you are sorrowful of what happened, but you must understand that I feel just as badly as you do.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand, Wilhelm. Nobody can understand how black I feel...”

“Then, tell me!” Wilhelm cries out desperately. “Tell me your thoughts so that I may attempt to understand you!”

“I am devastated because, on top of losing my precious boy, I have failed you in the process!” I burst out then, outwardly sobbing now.

“Failed me?” Wilhelm demands. “What are you talking about?”

“We have no son,” I moan then, covering my café with my hands. “All families need a son and now that ours has been taken, you shall find a way to fault me for it and then you shall cast me aside...”

Wilhelm sighs then and the next thing I feel is him pulling me into his arms. “I want to impress upon you, meine geliebte, that I could never do such a thing. I informed you upon our marriage that should we be blessed with one child or a houseful, I should be content. And you know as well as I do that we have an heir—Toria. As of right now, Toria stands to legally inherit everything of ours upon our deaths, and that is satisfactory to me.”

I sobbed into his arms. “After everything—losing Willy, my father’s illness—I could not bear to lose you, too.”

Wilhelm pulled back from me, so as he could stare down upon my face. “I am not going anywhere, Felicity. I refuse.”

“And when God calls for you?” I whisper.

“Then I shall deny him for as long as I can, for I do not wish to be summoned until you may come along with me.” He smiles gently down at me then and, with his thumbs, dries my tears as they fall down my cheeks. “Remember, my love, you have not failed me. God wanted Willy with him, and we must not fault him for that, meine geliebte, never.”

I nod. “I shall miss him until my dying day,” I whisper, leaning back into the comfort of his embrace.

Wilhelm’s hand is strong upon my back. “As will I,” he replies.

. . .

November melted into December and January, and I continually wrote to Victoria that I was still unable to attend court. Victoria was surprisingly very understanding towards me, and sent me Christmas fairings throughout the holidays, as well as various gifts throughout my time in Kent. As February dawned and set and March began, I began to thaw out as winter ended and as spring began. Toria was beginning to become quite comical as she grew and seemed to recognize me whenever I gathered her up from the nursery in the mornings. With the new warmer weather, I would take her outdoors with me, and Flight would dash along the garden path ahead, beside, or behind us. Flight would bark with enthusiasm if a bird flew by, and little Toria would be beside herself with laughter.

It was as March gave way to April that I began to realize a change within myself and I could hardly believe such a thing. I waited until May and June, just to be sure, and soon I quite realized what was happening within me. When Wilhelm returned from a trip to London one afternoon at the end of June, I had just told the maids to give Toria a bath as I waited in the drawing room. When Wilhelm returned, he immediately needed to speak, so I kept quiet and waited for him to share the news of court in London with me.

“Her Majesty is with child again,” he said breathlessly.

I feel myself gasp a little. “So soon?” I whispered.

Wilhelm nodded. “Yes, and she asks for you,” he informed me, sitting beside me upon the couch. “She tells His Royal Highness who informed me that she would like for Toria to become a companion for Princess Vicky, and that she believes they could have their lessons together, when the time comes.”

I smile at that—a good negotiation, for I did not wish to leave Toria on her own, knowing that she needed me. “The physician came before you arrived,” I informed him quietly.

“For Toria?” Wilhelm demanded quickly, looking around and getting to his feet in a matter of seconds. “Where is she? Is she well?”

I laughed, reaching for his hands then. “No, she is well, my love, quite well. The maids are giving her a bath.”

Wilhelm sighed. “Of course, I’m sorry,” he said, lowering himself to the couch beside me and taking my hands. “The physician was not here for Toria, then, I take it?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, he came for me, at my request.”

“Are you unwell, meine geliebte?” he asked, touching the back of his hand onto my forehead. “You’ve not got influenza, have you?”

I laughed. “It is not a disease, but it shall not go away for another six months, I fear,” I reply.

“Another six...?” Wilhelm asks before his eyes widen then, lowering themselves onto my dress, my waistline expanded ever so slightly. “Felicity...”

I sigh. “I know—I know it has not been a year since we lost Willy, but we were discussing having another child. I realize that it was before we lost him, but I also know that Toria would benefit from company...”

Wilhelm nodded ever so slightly then. “It should arrive—”

“The physician believes in December,” I reply. I take his hand and place it upon my barely-rounded belly. “I realize it is a shock, but I should not want you to believe I did this deliberately...”

Wilhelm gazes at me in shock. “No, of course I did not,” he replies. “I should never presume to accuse you of such a thing.”

I lower my eyes. “And you are not angry with me?” I asked, fearing the worst from his reaction.

Wilhelm smiles and shakes his head, clasping my hand in his. His arm had improved in the last several months, and now he did not need to wear a bandage anymore, although it still pained him now and again. “I could never be angry with you for this, Felicity,” he tells me, and I raise my eyes to his. “This child shall be well looked after and loved. I am quite pleased.”

I smile, dashing the tears from my eyes as I lean in to kiss him. “Mayhap this child shall be born in London before it is shipped back here until they become useful to the crown,” I joke.

Wilhelm leans down then and kisses my stomach. “We shall ensure every comfort for you at court, Felicity. I shall make sure of it.”

I gently pull him upwards and lean in to kiss him. “I shall hold you to that, my love, for I know you shall never break your promises to me.”

. . .

Wilhelm, Toria, and I arrived at court in the first week of July, and Victoria was quite surprised to get a look at me, as I was at her. We shared in a laugh and then, after Victoria got a good look at her namesake, brought me immediately to the nursery, where Toria would be placed under the care of Lehzen. Although I was not best pleased about that portion of things at court, I knew I was free to visit Toria whenever I wished, and I knew she would be good company for Princess Vicky, as the princess would be for her.

Princess Vicky seemed to be used to visitors and raised her arms up immediately when Victoria came into view. Victoria sat upon a couch and Lehzen instantly stepped forward with the little princess and placed her into her mother’s arms. It could not have been an easy task, as Victoria was five months pregnant; I, at four months into my time, managed to keep a good grip upon Toria, who eyed the pretty Princess Vicky with excitement, as the princess did her. It was a pleasant thing to see them both mutually interested in one another.

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” I said, bowing my head, and little Princess Vicky giggled at that.

Toria reached out then, towards her, and it was a heartwarming moment when little Princess Vicky took my daughter’s hand. Turning then, we saw proud Prince Albert and my Wilhelm in the doorway, looking on. Even Lehzen seemed to be softer since the young princess had been born, and assured me that my Toria would be well taken care of. A bed had already been brought in for Toria to sleep beside Princess Vicky, and I found the arrangement all very formal.

“It was so kind of you to allow me to bring her,” I informed Victoria when, at last, we were alone. “Ever since we lost Willy...” I shake my head.

Victoria reached out and took my hand. “That could not have been an easy thing for you,” she replied gently. She turned and looked out the window, at the palace grounds where Prince Albert and Wilhelm had gone out riding. “With Lehzen in the nursery so much and with Harriet away from court...” She smiled and shook her head. “As you are a woman and Wilhelm a foreigner, it is quite easy to convince Sir Robert Peel of my keeping you on.”

I smile at the sentiment. “That is going well? I know how much you adored Lord Melbourne when he had the position...”

“It took some adjusting,” Victoria admitted, “but I feel perhaps it is time for Albert to have a Prime Minister he is not jealous of.”

“Jealous?” I ask. “Of Lord Melbourne? You truly believe he was jealous during that one opportunity when his temper got the better of him, when Dash...” At once, I stop speaking, for Dash had died the year before, just after Princess Vicky had been born. “I am sorry, Victoria. Forgive me.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “It is all right,” she replies, absentmindedly stroking the small, white puppy in her lap. “Although she is not Dash and shall never be Dash, I am quite content with Isla.”

I smile, reaching forward and stroking the head of the little thing, and Flight, from my own lap, whines in discontent. I stifle a giggle. “She is quite sorry.”

Victoria laughs, petting Flight with her other hand. “Oh, yes, yes, yes. You have quite a temperament, don’t you?”

“She quite loves the gardens at Rosings,” I tell her. “When my pains came with Toria and Willy, she was out in them with me.”

“In October?” Victoria asks, aghast.

I nod. “Yes, although I do believe the rules away from court differ. But she did not even sound the alarm when I proceeded to scream in pain.”

Victoria dissolved into a fit of giggles. “No!”

“Yes!” I reply, taking up one of Flight’s ears and stroking it. “I was quite annoyed when she demanded I continue to play with her. Thankfully, Wilhelm rose quickly from bed and was able to rescue me.”

Victoria gazes almost unabashedly at my belly then. “Was it your intention to have further children?” she asks, not unkindly.

I bite my lip, my hand making its way to my belly, the child proceeding to kick out at me from within. “When I had the twins, initially I believed I could not take the pain that came with them,” I tell her quietly. “And then when I lost Willy, I did not even want Wilhelm to touch me...”

“Not to touch you?” Victoria asked, almost as if the thought of Prince Albert never touching her again was too much to bear. “Honestly?”

“Truly,” I reply. “He stayed away for a full week after we buried Willy, and then found his way back to our bedchambers. He begged me to speak with him—to tell him how I was feeling. I suppose I...” I lower my eyes, becoming lost in the many colors of Flight’s fur. “I suppose I did not even consider, not for a moment, of how much Wilhelm was hurting as well...”

Victoria reached across then and took my hand in hers. “You cannot blame yourself for that,” she replies. “You cannot blame yourself for wishing to keep your feelings close. Mayhap you wished to protect him from your sadness, and yet you must trust that Wilhelm shall never fault you for your feelings. Albert never faults me for mine, and he and Wilhelm are so alike, you see.”

I smile. “Yes. Yes, they are so very alike.”

“Now that you have returned to court, I must start the plans for the grand celebration for his knighthood,” she says with a grin as I raise my eyes to hers. “I know he is grateful—he said as much to Albert when he came here himself, when you were still at Rosings.”

I appreciated that Victoria did not make mention of my grieving, which, in turn, had kept us apart. “Mayhap it was good that I was away for so long,” I say softly, shrugging my shoulders. “Others would have the opportunity to get close to you so as you would not be accused of favoritism...”

“I cannot have Harriet with me, as you well know, but it is wonderful that I may have you with me, Felicity.”

“I was not speaking of Harriet, Victoria,” I reply patiently, looking across at her, trying my best to keep my tone even.

Victoria checked herself then as she stroked Isla, the small white dog in her lap barely stirring from her slumber. “I know you and Lehzen have never seen eye to eye on most things, Felicity, but I cannot abide another in my household disliking her, I simply cannot.”

“Another in your household?” I ask, wondering what had happened. “Surely, nobody else would dare to even think that—”

Victoria nods, and it stops my speech. “Yes. Albert is quite against her, I’m afraid, although she is as German as he is.”

“Perhaps it is because she is not of royal or noble background,” I say softly. “I hardly am, and he has no dislike for me, although I am English...”

“And you are pure of heart, and caused his great friend Wilhelm to love, something I know full well, from Albert, that your lord husband swore never to do,” she tells me with a quick smile. “And you helped me through my days at Kensington, and he knows of your encouragement to let Mama in.”

“And have you?” I ask her, wondering if this, something I’d hardly allowed myself to hope, had happened. “Have you let her in?”

Victoria smiles a little then. “I have,” she replies. “When I had Vicky, I... I cannot explain it,” she says, shaking her head. “I ordered the men away from the outside of my bedchamber—I did not want a captive audience whilst giving birth,” she tells me softly. “And then, when Albert ordered them out and the doors were swinging shut, I called out for Mama,” she tells me, almost as if she can scarcely believe she did such a thing herself. “I remember just shouting for her, and she came at the run and stood beside me, holding my hand and urging me to breathe and then I could allow the child to come...”

“My mother was with me as well,” I say quietly. “She held Toria when I realized that I had another baby inside me...”

“Quite a shock,” Victoria puts in.

I nod. “Yes, quite a shock... My father kept Toria with him at Pemberley for weeks after Willy took sick... I don’t think I could have bared to lose them both in those days of darkness and shadows...”

“This new baby shall prove the darkness and shadows wrong,” Victoria tells me in a soft voice. “Perhaps it shall be another son, and he may be a companion for mine and Albert’s when he arrives.”

“It will be a boy,” I tell her, smiling. “That I feel I can say.”

. . . 

The hot summer passed and nearly eclipsed itself with an equally warm autumn, but at last the heat of both seasons felt free to pass as October concluded. It was in the first week of November that Victoria took to her chamber, and when I heard her screams cut through the corridors of Buckingham Palace at dawn. Immediately, I forced myself to leave my bed, Wilhelm with me, as we assisted one another in dressing before we left our chambers shortly after seven in the morning. With my large belly, I found it difficult to run, but Wilhelm kept a steady grip upon my arm as we entered Victoria’s presence chamber.

Wilhelm stepped forward towards the other lords and nobleman—Sir Robert Peel, Prince Albert’s brother Ernest, and King Leopold of Belgium were among them. I stepped towards the doors of Victoria’s rooms, and they were suddenly flung open when a maid ran by with an empty basin and bloodied towels. Such a sight was a shock to me, and then Victoria looked up from the great bed and saw me.

“Albert! Get Felicity!” she screamed and, with Lehzen left to wipe her brow, Prince Albert immediately stepped forward.

He nodded to Wilhelm amongst the lords and grabbed me by the arm, hauling me into her bedchamber and shutting the door behind me. “Good of you to come,” he threw over his shoulder, leaving me standing there as he returned to her side. “It is all right, Victoria,” he assured her.

“Felicity!” Victoria screamed, her face splotched from the pain, and wretched her hand from Prince Albert’s to reach for me.

Immediately, I came towards the bed then and took her hand as Prince Albert moved behind her, his hands upon her shoulders. I nodded to the Duchess of Kent and to Lehzen, who surrounded her as well. “It is all right,” I said as her silver eyes met mine. “Don’t give up—you shall be fine—”

“Your Majesty, I hardly think it is appropriate for the Duchess of Marquardt to be here,” Lehzen emitted then, her voice uttering my title almost begrudgingly. “I should think, that in her condition, she will be much happier in her chambers, unseen by the court—”

“Stop,” Victoria said quietly. “Please stop...”

“Your Majesty, I really think—” she began again.

“And you, baroness, overstep,” Prince Albert said, his voice cutting across hers, his brown eyes flashing with contained anger. “I’ll not have you upsetting my wife. If having Lady Felicity here pleases her, then Lady Felicity shall remain.”

“It does please me,” Victoria replied, her voice small.

“I just believe that, in her condition, perhaps she would be—”

“Baroness, please,” said the Duchess of Kent, cutting across Lehzen. “I initially let my opinion of Lady Felicity become manipulated, based upon her direct connection with Sir John Conroy because of her father, but, once free of his influence, I soon discovered that she was a wonderful addition to my dear Drina’s household. I could not allow my daughter to be parted from her, especially now, in her hour of great need.”

“However, duchess, as you rightly know, it was _I _who had your daughter’s ear for so long, that perhaps Her Majesty’s vision is so clouded that—”

“You dare question the motives of the queen?” I demand, my voice like the crack of a whip. “How dare you? How dare you try to overrule her happiness? It is not good for her,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her. “I’ve had enough of your hatred of me, baroness, but we shall have to set that aside until the birth happens,” I say, and turn my eyes from the baroness and back to Victoria. “It is all right,” I say to her as her eyes meet mine again. “It is all right—we none of us are going anywhere, and we shall not leave you.”

I smile then as she shuts her eyes, concentrating on the birth and it is then that I feel a second pair of eyes upon me. Looking up, I see Prince Albert staring at me, and he gives me the faintest of smiles. He and I are truly bonded in our mutual dislike of Baroness Lehzen, and our love for Victoria, I see that now.

Nearly four hours passes until Victoria’s pains come to an end, and the physician is summoned quickly enough as she is delivered of a prince. The prince is soon washed and wrapped up carefully before he is placed in her arms. As the Duchess of Kent, Lehzen, and I make awed noises over the precious baby, Prince Albert advances upon the doors and opens them. Looking up, I see Wilhelm among the lords and Prime Minister, and I wait as they do with baited breath.

“My lords, we have a prince,” Prince Albert tells them, and there are many sighs of relief from among them.

“He shall be Prince Albert,” Victoria tells us softly as her husband returns to her side, a smile on his lips as he gazes down at his namesake. “I should think he shall be Prince Albert Edward,” she says, kissing his forehead and peeking up at Prince Albert, who nods.

“We shall need something to differentiate him from myself,” Prince Albert says, smiling down at his son.

“Was Papa called anything, Mama?” Victoria asked.

The duchess sighed and shook her head. “No, always Edward,” she replied, a little regretfully.

“Your Majesty, if I may,” I said softly, and Victoria, Prince Albert, Lehzen, and the duchess all turned to look at me. “Perhaps you might call him ‘Bertie’, as a shortened version of Albert.”

“Prince Bertie,” Prince Albert said softly.

“Bertie, Prince of Wales,” Lehzen said, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t like it. The people will think we are ennobling a bird...”

“Nonsense,” the duchess said, and I saw then that she was smiling. “I think ‘Bertie’ is perfectly lovely. Such a darling name...”

“Bertie it shall be,” Victoria rules then, running her finger along her son’s fat little cheek, and gasped a little when he smiled. “Oh, my boy,” she whispered.

I was able to excuse myself from Victoria’s rooms shortly thereafter, and quickly cursed myself as I neared my suite of rooms. Mayhap I should have listened to Lehzen, for perhaps if I did, my own pains would not have begun. After I managed to summon Wilhelm, I found myself gripping the frame of our great bed, tears coming from my eyes as the pains shot through me.

“Dear God, not again,” I whispered.

Wilhelm arrived shortly thereafter, and was quickly able to summon the physician, who came at the run, likely because I was a duchess and of somewhat importance to Victoria. My maid put me into a white cotton nightdress and I was made to return to bed immediately; by the time Wilhelm returned with the physician, I was all prepared to give birth. Wilhelm was permitted to remain with me, and all I could do to keep myself calm was done. I shivered from the weight put upon me; I did not wish to fail a second time.

Noon came and Victoria sent for me, and I urged my maid to tell her that I was unwell and not to be disturbed. I knew Victoria would know what had befallen me, and I also knew that Lehzen would smirk behind her pale hand at being proven correct. I knew too that Prince Albert would pray for me, and that Toria would be kept safe in the royal nursery with Princess Vicky, although I wondered if Lehzen would take to stabbing her with needles to vent her frustrations.

Wilhelm kept his hands firmly upon my shoulders, as Prince Albert had done for Victoria, and as I leaned into him, tears blinded my vision as I felt as if something would rip away from me at any moment. I had believed that I could handle the pain again, and yet I was sorely mistaken. However, I would not allow myself to be beaten in this natural task, so I gritted my teeth and heeded the physician’s yells to push, and push I did. One hand gripping Wilhelm’s and the other gripping my coverlet, as the clocks chimed three that afternoon, I was finally permitted to throw myself back against Wilhelm as the baby came forth from me then.

“Ah, here we are,” the physician said cheerfully, taking the rather plump thing from between my legs and tidying it up. “There we are now... Come on,” he urged it, before smacking its bottom, sending a shriek throughout the chamber. “There we are,” he said, nodding at my maid who held out a swath of linen for it. It was wrapped up hastily and presented to me, and I caught a glimpse of raven hair as the baby was handed over.

“Is it...?” I whispered, hardly daring to have a look.

“A healthy daughter, my lady duchess,” the physician replied.

Quickly, I turned to look up at Wilhelm, fearing displeasure, and was shocked to find tears in his eyes as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Wilhelm?” I asked, and I cursed myself when I found my voice trembled.

“She is perfection,” he whispered.

I found I smiled up at him then as my maid and the physician left the room, and I managed to kiss him on the cheek. “I think it right to call her Maria Anna—after your mother,” I say, and I feel a flush of pride when Wilhelm looks quickly over at me with shock. “And why not? She was a wonderful woman, and so too shall our second daughter be—”

My words are muffled when Wilhelm closes the distance between us and suddenly kisses me. “You are wonderful, meine geliebte,” he whispers.

I smile up at him, before turning to look back down at our daughter, who now sleeps in my arms. “My maid shall have to fetch Toria eventually—she will want to meet her sister, I suspect.”

“Let us have this moment with her,” Wilhelm rules softly, stroking Maria Anna’s hand, curled into a soft fist. The baby quickly shakes ever so slightly, before opening her fist and making a grab for his finger. “She is truly perfection, meine geliebte,” he tells me.

I smiled down at her then. “She is... So like her father...”

“I find she is more like her mother,” he replies.

I let out a small laugh then. “Nevertheless, I find I have never been happier, although I shall continue to hope for a boy for you, my love...”

Wilhelm shakes his head. “It does not matter to me,” he tells me for what must have been the twentieth time in all our marriage. “I shall be quite content with two daughters or a houseful. It does not matter to me.”

“And that is just one of many reasons why I love you,” I whisper.

“One of many?” Wilhelm asks, chuckling. “How many are there?”

“A fair few,” I reply, “and someday I shall tell you them all.”


	8. A Shot in the Park

Wilhelm and I returned to court as November dawned, leaving my mother and father in charge of the nursery at Rosings Park. We fully intended to seek out Victoria’s and His Serene Highness’s advice when it came to a proper governess for Willy and Toria, knowing full well that it would be a far more appropriate arrangement to make. The carriage collected us outside the manor, and we were able to return to Buckingham Palace in the next couple of hours, arriving soon before supper. Although he did not wish to be apart from her too often, His Serene Highness did make it a point to greet us when we arrived.

The carriage came quickly to the staircase of the palace, and Wilhelm promptly opened the door on his own, stepping down the stairs and turning about almost immediately then, holding out a hand to me. I gripped my skirts and Flight with one hand and stepped down myself, meeting his eyes briefly as we approached the prince, who stood at the base of the stairs, and I lowered Flight down; she almost immediately when to greet the prince, who seemed quite amused. We immediately curtsied and bowed to him respectively, and he lowered his head in that quiet, respectful dignity I’d come to see Victoria loving so well.

“You are welcome back to court, Earl and Countess Marquardt,” he said eloquently to the pair of us, motioning for us to follow him inside. “I am quite sure the queen will be pleased.”

“We thank you,” Wilhelm said, sharing a smile with his old friend before taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.

“And Her Majesty is well, Your Royal Highness?” I asked, hoping that he will not think me impertinent as we step inside. “I am sure you know that she has written to me, but that was some time before our return. I quite think that you would be a responsible and honest judge of her character, sir.”

The prince smiled, clearly touched by my words. “I have that gift, my lady countess, I do,” he says carefully. 

“No, no,” I say quickly, and he looks shocked at my negative reply as we stand in the corridor. “I do apologize, sir, but please, you must call me ‘Lady Felicity’ while in a public setting, and just ‘Felicity’ when we are alone. I may be a countess, sir, but when my dearest friend thinks so highly of you, I shall not allow myself such airs, for such things are inappropriate next to a royal prince.”

The prince considers for a moment. “You refer to the baroness?”

I lower my eyes. “Her Majesty would never forgive me if I spoke honestly about such a thing, sir.”

Clearly amused, Prince Albert turns to Wilhelm. “Has your wife shared her opinion with you about the baroness?”

Wilhelm looked around before catching my eye, nipping the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. “My wife has mentioned it, sir, yes.”

The prince clearly looks amused by this before turning again to look at me. “I will ask you, Lady Felicity. What is your opinion on the baroness?”

I flush red then, knowing that there is no right answer. “My opinion, sir, is immaterial, as it only matters what Her Majesty thinks, as it is her court, and her kingdom,” I reply, lowering myself into a curtsy. “Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go to her and make it known that I am returned to court.” I rise myself up then and catch the prince’s eye, and I see he admires me for my cleverness as I swiftly kiss Wilhelm on the cheek and depart.

I turn from them and make my way down the corridor then, turning down one way and then another, before finding my way to Victoria’s chambers. I know she will likely be at her desk signing something, Dash at her side. I turned around to be sure that Flight was still beside me, and she was, gazing up at me with her trusting black eyes as we approached the hallway. I walked down it briefly before making the proper turn, removing my bonnet and my cape, hoping that there would be a maid about to take them as I stepped inside. As I did so, Dash let out an excited bark, as did Flight, and Victoria raised her eyes from her desk, a smile overtaking her serious expression as she got to her feet.

“Felicity!” she cried out, dashing forward.

“Careful there!” I say, embracing her as Dash and Flight do the canine equivalent of the same thing. “Look at you!” I say. “You truly are a radiant queen, Victoria, for never have I seen a prettier sight!”

Victoria grins. “The physicians don’t like me wandering about, but I cannot allow myself to neglect the kingdom,” she admonishes herself gently, and nods towards the impressive stacks of paperwork upon her desk. “But do tell me,” she says, and takes me by the hands and into some of her finely upholstered chairs by the window, “how is motherhood for you?”

I feel myself flush instantly with pride. “Toria and Willy are absolutely wonderful babies—spitting images of their father, of course,” I say.

“Victoria Henrietta and Albert Wilhelm?” she says. “I want to make sure I’ve got the names right, for they will come to court one day.”

I nod. “Yes, that’s right.” I look around then, attempting to remember every little detail of the court. “I’ve made something for the baby,” I say softly, and Victoria seems touched by this notion. “I’ve planned to be in chapel all day during the birth, and shall come to you the moment you give me permission to do so.”

“Chapel?” Victoria asks.

“To pray,” I reply.

“For me?”

I lower my eyes. “I shall not subject you to hearing of—”

“Please,” Victoria replies, her voice suddenly higher, and she sounds like a little girl at Kensington Palace then. “Please. I would know.”

I lean forward then, gripping her hands in mine. “I don’t want you to have to go through as I did,” I whispered. “It was terrible, Victoria, truly...”

“What happened?” she whispered.

“All day and night,” I said quietly. “It was frightening—not knowing when the pain would end. The midwife said I would not stop bleeding,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears that would not fall. “And when I realized there would be two babies instead of one...”

“You must have been horrified,” Victoria said softly.

I nodded. “Beyond words,” I replied. “I never suspected anything of that nature would happen to me...”

Victoria clasped my hand tightly. “I’ll not let you out of my sight again,” she told me firmly. “Now that you have given Wilhelm his precious son and heir, plus a daughter to marry off where you please, you’ve no need to return to his bosom. I should think some permanent apartments could be set up, here, at court for you. I shall have Lehzen arrange it directly.”

“If you wish it, I am at your command whenever possible, Victoria,” I said, patting her hand and smiling at her. “I know you will come through this childbirth well—better than I did—and I know it shall be healthy.”

“And a son?” Victoria asked.

I shook my head. “Even I cannot answer that,” I reply.

. . . 

I sat with Harriet one afternoon, while Victoria and Prince Albert went into town to take the air. We stitched our needlepoint and spoke quietly to one another, every so often setting our work aside to sip tea and nibble at the provided scones. I raised my eyes to the window at one point; although the day was cold and gray, there was no rain, so Victoria thought it best to journey out that day. I knew Lehzen was off somewhere muttering to herself, at the notion that the prince had accompanied Victoria, as opposed to herself.

“Is it true?” I asked, responding to the statement Harriet had made only a few moments ago. “Does the baroness truly walk into the queen’s chambers without knocking, whilst she is abed with the prince?”

Harriet smiled, forcing herself not to laugh. “Quite true,” she assured me. “The prince himself is not fond of the baroness. There was quite a row between them when it was decided that Baroness Lehzen would be put in charge of the nursery and the royal children.”

“Surely not!” I cry out, shaking my head. “The queen and Prince Albert could not have argued!”

Harriet nodded. “Truly,” she said, all humor gone when we spoke of the potential marital problems between our mistress and her lord husband. “I do hope he does not turn sour, should the worst happen...” She said, her voice tapering off then as she raises her dark eyes from her needlework, a sad glow about her face then as she considered the unthinkable.

“The worst?” I ask quietly. “Surely, you don’t mean...”

Harriet turned to look at me, her dark eyes silencing me. “Oh, but of course I do, Felicity,” she said softly. “It can happen to anyone.”

I lowered my head then, remembering the news being whispered about the court, a year and five months previously. “I was much aggrieved at the loss of little Victoria, Harriet. That could not have been easy for you...”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “What’s more, I was needed by Her Majesty, so I was not permitted to return home to bid her farewell.”

“Surely the queen did not mean to be so thoughtless,” I say softly, not wishing the baroness or someone else to hear my words.

“She was merely feeling shaky in her early reign,” Harriet replied, quick to defend our mistress of any wrongdoing. “She still merely has you, I, the prince, the baroness, and Lord Melbourne for such personal affairs. And now that Lord Melbourne is no longer Prime Minister...” Harriet shrugged. “I would not wish to paint Her Majesty in a negative light, Felicity. I would not.”

I shake my head. “No, of course not. Although my lord husband informs me that His Royal Highness wishes to mend the rift between Her Majesty and the Duchess of Kent.”

Harriet nods. “Mayhap he has attempted to do so since they were proclaimed man and wife,” she says. “Although, methinks he would shut the baroness out on a permanent basis if he does so.”

“And what are your opinions on the baroness, Harriet?” I ask.

“Well, she is Her Majesty’s most close confident, second only to the prince, so I do believe the queen believes her to be—”

“Not the queen’s opinion,” I say, hoping that I don’t sound impatient with her. “I was referring to yours, Harriet. Don’t allow your opinion to be swayed by the queen’s, nor your lord husband’s. Her Majesty knows her own mind, why can we not?” I want to know.

Harriet pursed her lips. “Sometimes I believe Her Majesty is too easily influenced by the baroness, but that is not for me to say.”

I sigh. “You did not live with her at Kensington Palace, Harriet,” I reply, and her dark eyes snap to mine, “and yet, that is all I can say.”

There was a flurry of commotion from outside then, and Harriet and I were almost immediately upon our feet and dashing over to the window. The carriage was in full view at the gates of Buckingham Palace, and Harriet and I hesitated, standing in front of the window. The horses were coming at the run, the carriage driver snapping his whip to keep them in line, as we heard the palace doors open from below and Baroness Lehzen immediately coming down the stairs and dashing over to the carriage.

“Dear me, what has gone on now?” Harriet asked.

“I expect we shall find out shortly,” I reply.

Victoria was barely sitting in the carriage, merely hovering there, her face pale and blank with shock. Prince Albert was immediately on his feet, shouting orders and looking down at his wife for a moment before he immediately came to a decision as he bent ever so slightly. Quickly, he lifted Victoria in his arms, holding her aloft and carrying her from the carriage and up the stone steps of the palace.

I noticed that Wilhelm, who was riding one of the horses beside the carriage that day, was covering his arm, and, once the royal couple had ventured inside the palace, he managed to stiffly come down from his mount, looking as if he was in a great deal of pain. Several other gentleman rushed forward to help him, and, my heart in my throat, I wanted more than anything to go to him. I felt Harriet grip my hand from beside me then, and I knew my first duty was to my monarch, for we two had to know if she was all right as well.

Victoria was promptly brought in through the sitting room where Harriet and I stood, Prince Albert carrying her and Baroness Lehzen quickly moving after the pair of them. Like the darkness of night or disease, the baroness was never far behind the queen, feeling as if she could not breathe unless she was right beside her at all times. Such a thing made me ill, and once Victoria was made to rest, the physician was called and Prince Albert was shown from the room, and yet the baroness was permitted to stay.

“Störende hexe,” Prince Albert murmured under his breath, as the Duchess of Kent entered the chamber and was permitted in the queen’s inner rooms. The prince looked up as King Leopold of Belgium stepped inside, and they spoke for a few moments before the prince caught sight of me. Excusing himself from the uncle he shared with Victoria, he quickly came towards me. “Lady Felicity, you must go to Wilhelm at once.”

“Pray, Your Royal Highness, what happened?” I whispered, finding that I was barely able to contain myself, due to my nerves. “Please... Sir, please. Tell me what happened.”

The prince hesitated for a moment before looking up at me with his kind brown eyes as he mulled it over. “A man shot at us,” Prince Albert replied, and King Leopold swore under his breath as Harriet gasped beside me. “We don’t know who it is yet—Sir Robert Peel is investigating it.”

“Yes?” I whisper, feeling for Harriet’s hand and seizing it once I managed to find it beside me. “With all due respect, sir, but I don’t care about the Prime Minister at the moment,” I say, and fight to keep my voice under control. “My husband—I know he went out with you today, sir. I saw him in pain from the window...” My voice broke as my knees knocked together in fright. “Tell me, please, is he all right? I must know, sir, please...” I begged.

Prince Albert—who momentarily looked slightly affronted that I seemed not to care about the investigation of the shooting of both himself and Victoria—almost immediately softened when I expressed worry for Wilhelm. “Yes, of course,” he said softly, “of course you would wish to know. He was caught in the arm—he stopped one of the bullets from doing potential serious damage to the queen, myself, and our unborn child.”

“Where is he?” I demand then, fighting to keep my voice quiet. “You’ve not taken him to a rat-infested sick bay, have you?”

The prince shakes his head. “Of course not, Lady Felicity.”

“Has he been taken to our chambers, then?” I ask, forcing myself to keep my voice from shaking. “He is all right?”

“I don’t know,” the prince admitted. “We sent one of the physicians to him right away, Lady Felicity. He shall be well looked-after—”

“May I go, sir?” I whispered, walking towards him then. “Please.”

He turned ever so slightly, towards Victoria’s room behind him. “Since you are the lady-in-waiting of my wife, I could hardly presume to—”

“Your Royal Highness,” I say, immediately falling to my knees before him and gripping his hand, “I beg you. For the love you bear my husband and for the love your wife bears me, please. Please, allow me to make sure my husband is all right, as you must do so your wife.”

“I think, because the baroness is with her—”

“The baroness is _not_ her husband!” I cry out then, rising to my feet and looking past the prince and into the eyes of King Leopold. “Surely, Your Majesty, you can see that your nephew should be with his wife!”

The king hesitated for but a moment before he spoke. “Perhaps, Albert, the duchess is correct,” he said, and the prince turned at once to his uncle. “Perhaps your wife has allowed herself to be persuaded to accept that the baroness is her only companion, when in fact she has these two duchesses, and yourself, to help in looking after her. I think, it would be right, for you to attend your wife, as it would be for Lady Felicity to attend her husband.”

Immediately, I cross the room and take one of the hands of the King of the Belgians into my own, before kissing it. “God bless you, Your Majesty!” I cried out, and his smile reached his eyes as I ran from Victoria’s presence chamber and down the corridor towards my own. My heart thundered in my chest as I drew near, whereupon I threw open the door and saw a flurry of activity behind it, and dashed to the inner rooms. “Wilhelm!” I found myself screaming, tears clouding my vision as I entered our bedchamber. “Wilhelm!”

He was propped up in our bed by numerous bolsters, his livery torn up at his arm and that part of it removed entirely. He looked up as I entered, shock in his face as I immediately came to his side and stood next to the bed. Wilhelm offered me his good hand, and I immediately took it, my eyes not leaving his. “Meine geliebte, you must not overexert yourself—”

“Fie on me!” I whisper passionately, leaning down and kissing his forehead before I looked up at the physician provided for him. “How is my husband the earl?” I asked, wanting to be sure that he remembered Wilhelm’s station as one of the prince’s closest companions and, therefore, should be well looked-after. “I want to ensure that he is doing well.”

“The skin only broke a little, my lady duchess,” the physician assured me, “and, if we are to keep a keen eye upon it, it shall not be infected.”

“And he shall not lose his arm?” I whisper, not wanting my husband to be chopped to pieces under any circumstances.

The physician chuckled. “No, he shall not. While the Prime Minister will soon report that the gun was filled with blanks, there was one rubber bullet in the chamber, and it was that bullet which your husband stopped.”

I immediately turned to my husband with a shout, before throwing myself upon him and kissing him again and again. “Now I am reluctant to let you out of my sight,” I said, pressing my cheek to his.

The physician chuckled again, snapping his fingers at his assistance. “We shall take our leave of the couple now,” he ordered, and they began gathering up his things. “I have left bandages and sterilization treatments in the bedside drawer, my lady duchess,” he informed me, and I looked up to fully catch his words. “He may require some relief from the pain that shall inevitably follow, so administer an occasional glass of whisky. Change the bandage three times a day for the next week, and I shall have my associates return with more bandages and sterilization equipment before the week is out. Then, peter down to twice a day, and by a fortnight, only once a day. Then, the earl should be healed,” he said, and offered his hand to Wilhelm, who shook it. “Get some rest—both of you,” he said. “And I recommend you dining in your chambers this evening. Rest is the most important thing you can do for yourself,” he said, taking his leave with his associates, who were waiting in our presence chamber.

“I was so afraid, Wilhelm,” I said softly, just as the door closed behind them. “I did not want to think—”

“I am quite well, meine geliebte, I assure you,” he informed me patiently, attempting to get into a more comfortable position.

“Are you in pain?” I asked. “Can I get you some whisky, my love?”

Wilhelm nodded, while I reached behind him and propped up his bolsters more efficiently, before crossing the room and pouring him some in the crystal glass and returning to his side. Wilhelm took the glass from me and gently pulled me to him, kissing me before lifting the glass to his lips. “That helps a little,” he said, after he saw my gaze of concern.

I smiled at him, waiting until he finished his whisky before I took the glass from him and set it down upon the bedside table. Crossing to the other side of the bed, I lay down beside him, automatically entwining his uninjured hand in mine. “I cannot bear the thought of losing you, Wilhelm. I cannot. Today, when I spotted you from the window with Harriet... I could not think,” I say, hating myself as my voice shook. I turned my body towards him, so as our eyes met and we could speak in a more proper manner. “All I could think of was a life without you, and how I would have to care for Toria and Willy, all on my own... It is not the burden that I fear, my darling,” I assured him, “but I could not bear to have our babies grow up without a father, nor me without the man I love.”

Wilhelm breaks into a grin, tears barely managing to escape his eyes. “I love you, Felicity,” he stated, untangling his hand from mine and brushing my own falling tears from my eyes as I lean into his touch. “You’ll not lose me by a rubber bullet to the arm, I assure you.”

“I love you, too, Wilhelm,” I whisper, setting my head down upon his shoulder, a feeling of excitement rippling through me as he brushed his lips to my forehead. “I have come to a decision...”

“Yes?” he asked. “Shall the children learn German as well?”

I giggle. “Well, considering their Mama and Papa already know it quite well, there is no reason why not,” I reply, pushing myself upwards upon the mattress and leaning my cheek upon my shoulder. “But no, my decision has nothing to do with Toria and Willy, although it shall affect them eventually...”

“What have you decided, meine geliebte?” asked Wilhelm.

I purse my lips, lowering my eyes as I fight the urge for the automatic response to escape through into the chamber, but know that I have no choice. “I think I was wrong, at the birth of Toria and Willy,” I say quietly, finally permitting my eyes to raise to Wilhelm’s. “Wrong about not wanting more children...”

Wilhelm raised his eyebrows. “Wrong about...? Felicity...”

I find I am smiling down upon him then, and I cannot stop smiling at the prospect of what I am proposing. “As soon as you’re well enough, I would like to attempt to have another child,” I reply.

“It is not a month since the twins were born,” Wilhelm says quietly. “Are you quite sure you wish to consider such a thing?”

“Quite sure,” I reply. “I love the twins, and I look forward to spending more time with them—perhaps when the queen does not need me so often, nor the prince needing you...”

“The queen!” Wilhelm suddenly shouted then, attempting to raise himself up then and looking towards the chamber door. “His Royal Highness—! They left so quickly, and I was escorted to my chambers that I did not...”

There is the telltale sound of a door opening then and, once narrowing my eyes at Wilhelm to get him to stay abed, I get to my feet. Shaking out my skirts and crossing the room, I walk through the open door and step out into our presence chamber, where I see Victoria and the prince standing there. Quickly, I fall to my knees then, waiting for the queen to speak.

“Is he all right?” Prince Albert asks, inexplicably speaking first. “Is Wilhelm improving at all?”

Slowly getting to my feet, I nod. “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” I reply with a small smile his way. “I am sure he would benefit from a light conversation with you, if I may say so, sir. Events happened so quickly...”

“Of course, my lady duchess,” the prince replied, crossing to me, before taking up my hand and kissing it. “Your husband is my dear friend and a hero, Lady Felicity, I assure you. His actions shall not be forgotten,” he tells me, kissing my hand one last time before slipping into our bedchamber to see Wilhelm.

I bite my lip, hearing the door shut behind me, and notice then that Victoria and Prince Albert had shut our chamber’s main door. “Please forgive me, Victoria,” I said softly, “but when I saw what had befallen Wilhelm, and when the prince gave his account of what had happened...”

Victoria raised her hand and gave me a small smile before extending her hands towards me and immediately I crossed to her. She held my hands for a moment before pulling me into an embrace. “The child is safe,” she whispered in my ear in a relieved manner, her cheek becoming wet, “the heir to the throne of England is safe, and it is all because of many heroic guards, but mostly because of your lord husband, Felicity,” she said, pulling back from me and keeping her firm grip steady upon my hands. However, one of her hands slips from the elevated grasp and she reaches out then, taking my curled hand and fanning it out before placing it upon her midsection. “It is alive and well, Felicity.”

I feel new tears pricking at my eyes at the prospect of it all. “The next one shall be a most handsome prince, Your Majesty,” I tell her, “but something tells me that this shall be a truly gifted princess.”

Victoria tries to hide her smile. “Are you betting, Felicity?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Such a thing would be inappropriate for a queen’s lady to do, Victoria, as you well know,” I reply. “Any well-bred lady knows that the concept of betting is a men’s habit and a cheeky one at that.”

Victoria laughed at that. “Quite right,” she informed me. “Well, be it boy or girl, my husband and I are young and can certainly attempt for a boy, if this child proves to be a princess.” She hesitated for a moment, before continuing, “I have decided to make Wilhelm a Knight of the Garter, which is what Albert is informing of at this moment.”

I shake my head before falling to my knees amid Victoria’s laughs and demands for me to rise up. “I cannot, for you have given so much to me and to my family, Victoria,” I whispered, kissing her ring and trembling then at the notion of all she had done for me.

“You shall be Duchess of Marquardt, as well as a Lady of the Garter, my dear friend,” Victoria said patiently, managing to pull me upwards and back onto my feet, smiling at me. “Can you say nothing?”

I shake my head, kissing her hand again. “You have done so much and more, Your Majesty, I cannot believe—”

“And you shall have ten thousand pounds a year,” Victoria says with a laugh. “I quite think Sir Robert Peel can persuade parliament to permit such an expense for the saviors of the royal couple.”

“Saviors?” I whisper. “Shall the other members of your guard be rewarded in a sufficient manner, Victoria?” I ask.

Victoria smiled. “Yes, of course, but I was speaking of _you_, Felicity.”

“Me?” I whispered. “What did I do?”

Victoria could not keep from smiling then and, as she did so, slipped one of the rings from her finger and put it upon my corresponding one. “Other than being the wife of the most-admired man in the kingdom, Felicity, you became a true beacon of light in my life in the final months where I had no one but Lehzen and dear Dash with me. It was truly you, Felicity, who saved me from the darkness that had become my teenage years, and I know full well that without you and Dash and Lehzen beside me, I would have been truly, truly lost.”

I bite my lip, lowering my eyes then, the mention of myself and Lehzen so closely together in a sentence leaving a bad taste in my mouth. “Might I speak freely, Victoria?” I ask.

She nods. “Of course, Felicity.”

I raise my eyes to hers then, not wanting to seem cowardly. “Ever since Sir—I mean, O Hum—has left court, I find that your mother is much-changed.”

Victoria tore her hands from mine and dashed across the room, towards the window, fingering the pendant of the necklace which swung from her neck, her other hand upon her swollen belly. “My mother permitted that man so many liberties, Felicity. I cannot think why you would even propose that her manners towards me have—”

“She is alone, Victoria,” I say quietly, stepping up behind her. “What with O Hum gone from court to Ireland and Lady Flora Hastings dead...”

“Don’t say her name,” Victoria replied.

I nodded. “Of course not,” I say quietly. “Without her friends and servants around her from the old days, I find her much-changed.”

Victoria turned to peek at me. “Do you?” she asked.

I reach out then, brushing my hand next to hers and, to my relief, she clasps it. “I do—find her changed,” I say. “I have spoken to her since my return from court and she told me that any animosity I incurred by her at Kensington was by influence of O Hum,” I report. “She told me that she knew of his treatment of me after I arrived at court and, although O Hum attempted to dissuade her otherwise, she always knew in her heart that it was true.”

Victoria sighs. “Did she?” she wanted to know.

I find myself smiling ever so slightly then. “She did.”

Victoria’s shoulders went slack then as she considered it. “Perhaps I may think upon mending fences with her...”

I smile. “Good,” I reply. “For when this baby arrives, and before the doors close, your final choice of who shall attend you is crucial. Do not find yourself compelled make the obvious choice, Victoria,” I whisper as the door to my bedchamber opens from behind me then, “for sometimes, the obvious choice is not the only decision to be made.”

It is when Prince Albert crosses the room that towards us that there is a knock upon the main door of the chamber. The prince immediately crosses and opens it, and the maid standing there immediately bobs a curtsy. She tells him that the letter she holds is addressed to me, and the prince takes it and pays her a few gold coins before he sends her on her way. He then re-enters the chamber fully then and hands over the letter, and I notice that it is my mother’s handwriting.

“I do hope the viscount is well,” Victoria puts in.

“Wilhelm!” I call lightly into the bedchamber. “We’ve a letter from my mother from Rosings Park!” I turn at the sound of Wilhelm entering our main chamber again, and he stands beside the prince while Victoria remains at my side and watches as I break the seal. “Father is well,” I tell Victoria after a moment, and she, the prince, and Wilhelm all sigh with relief.

_My dearest Felicity,_

_I am writing to give you the news of Rosings Park, where I have remained in order to ensure the good treatment of little Victoria Henrietta and Albert Wilhelm. May I inform you quickly and assuredly that your father is well, and spends much of his time with the children? He bids me to inform you that he loves both you and Wilhelm very much and sends his greetings._

_I must inform you, urgently, however, that little Willy is not well. According to the physician, he has influenza. The physician has requested that we keep Victoria Henrietta away from her brother. Your father is taking her to Pemberley so as she cannot take sick. We cannot wait for your refusal or acceptance of such an arrangement, but I have not left little Willy’s side, and I shall not. He is not well, my love, and I am sorry for the black mood of this letter._

_Your mother,_

_Viscountess Pemberley_

I had stopped reading after the first paragraph, and found that my lips could not form the necessary words to communicate what was happening. I found I was trembling then at the prospect of it all—I could lose my son. As I raised my eyes to Wilhelm then, I let out the wail of a dying animal and let go of the letter, which would have fallen to the floor had not Prince Albert snatched it up. I vaguely heard him reading it in his thick accent as I wailed in Wilhelm’s arms, knowing that he would barely be able to decipher it himself.

“We must go to Rosings,” Wilhelm said, through his teeth, as he did not wish to be seen crying in front of our monarchs. “Please, Your Majesty. May we not be excused from court to say goodbye?”

“Go,” the prince said before Victoria could answer. “I know what it is like, not being able to say goodbye, as you know of as well, Wilhelm. I know I cannot allow the both of you to remain at court. You will want to go home and to help in the nursing of your son.”

“Yes,” Victoria whispered, “do go. I shall send servants to come up and assist you with packing at once—mayhap you shall make it there before dark.”

“I’ll send to the kitchens and have them prepare food for your journey,” Prince Albert said quickly. “Come, Victoria,” he said, taking her arm. “We must leave them to prepare.”

I barely heard them leave; all the sounds around me were drowned out by my wailing, and the fact that Wilhelm’s arms were wound tightly around me did not help my hearing much either. As I continued to sob into Wilhelm’s shirt, I vaguely heard the maids coming and going, before I was mechanically helped into a traveling cape and bonnet and carried by Wilhelm—who never complained about his arm hurting—down to the provided carriage.

I bade a stiff farewell to Victoria and Prince Albert before Wilhelm took the basket of food from the prince and we climbed into the carriage. I pulled the chords of the curtains of the carriage shut then, not wanting to look out at the world as we cleared the gates of Buckingham Palace. All I could think of was my perfect Baby Willy, and how on earth this misfortune had befallen all of us.


	9. Darkness and Shadows

“Famine?” I whisper, sitting in the center of our bed, watching Wilhelm ready himself after we had retired for the evening. “Where?”

“Ireland; His Royal Highness is much aggrieved,” he replies, unknotting his tie and unbuttoning his vest. “The queen has called for Peel to send funds or something like that to assuage it, but I’m afraid Peel has refused to do so.”

“Refused?” I cry out then, my eyes widening at the apparent callousness of our esteemed Prime Minister. “Surely Peel would never—”

“But he has,” Wilhelm tells me quietly, shaking his head and kneeling beside me upon the bed, kissing my forehead before returning to undressing. “Hopefully it shall not spread here...”

“Dear God, no,” I whisper, turning my head to the immaculate bassinet beside our bed, where our third daughter and youngest child, six-month-old Charlotte, was now sleeping. “To actually have to go through famine and the risk of losing your loved ones...” I shake my head. “Mayhap Victoria will want us to send our babies back to Rosings...”

“All of them?” Wilhelm asked.

I turn to look up at him then. “No, of course not. We can hardly send Toria away, now can we? She is over three now and quite used to Princess Vicky. They are devoted to one another, and though I still do not approve of Lehzen assisting in the raising of our daughter...”

“His Royal Highness brings it up with Her Majesty nearly every week,” Wilhelm tells me, squeezing my shoulder as he leans over to unlace his shoes. “We cannot give up hope now. And besides, now that the queen has decreed that she will decide in the coming months for Maria Anna or Charlotte to be a companion to Princess Alice, we must abide with them here.”

“Until the rejected daughter is sent home and into the care of my mother and father?” I ask, a wry smile forming on my lips. I wait for Wilhelm to come to bed and it comforts me when he does so; he pulls back the coverlets and slides in behind me, and I lean up against him for support, feeling his strength go forward and into me, and I am at peace, despite all the devastation and turmoil in Ireland, and wonder if Peel will change his mind. “This is a terrible, terrible time, Wilhelm, and I know you must be occupied with the thoughts of His Royal Highness, my love, and yet I...”

“Much occupied, meine geliebte, yes,” Wilhelm says, leaning down and kissing my temple, “but never too occupied to listen to you. Is there something you wished to discuss? Shall we journey home? We’ve not been back since we lost our dear little Willy...”

I nodded; I could easily discuss our son’s death without sobbing now, but only just, and knew that we could now dwell upon that conversation topic long. “I know, and perhaps we shall, and soon, my darling. But I am afeard that, with the recent developments in Ireland, perhaps Victoria shall have need of me. You know she likes me to assist her with strategy...”

Wilhelm smiles against my cheek. “I know, meine geliebte—the prince and I are quite the same, and have been since we were boys. Prince Ernest, on the other hand, would much prefer to guess at which ladies he could easily persuade to come out to the balcony with him...”

I turn and look at my husband, considering him in his younger days in Coburg, where he had returned just after the birth of the Prince of Wales after the death of the former duke. Now that Ernest was duke, however, he was much at court in England, preferring to spend time with family than to deal with his duties as the current head of state. “Methinks you miss such things, husband.”

Wilhelm tightened his grip upon me then. “No, for it was you who taught me to love another, my Felicity. I would not wish to return to those days, for they were so very full of uncertainty...”

I smiled then, and permitted a giggle to escape my lips. “I am afraid you cannot hold me so tightly, my love...”

“You are my wife,” Wilhelm replied simply, and tightened his grip again, so that I let out a squeal of excitement and he kisses my neck with great fervor. “Now, my love, why can I not hold you so tightly?”

I peek over my shoulder at him for a moment before I take his hands then and place them upon my belly. “Methinks you can guess at it.”

Wilhelm watched where I positioned his hands for a moment before he let out a slight gasp and looked up at me. “Felicity...”

I nodded. “Yes, Wilhelm.”

“How long?” he whispered.

“Three months or so,” I said softly, leaning back against him again. “The physicians confirmed it earlier this afternoon, when I was with Victoria, when you, the prince, and Duke Ernest were riding.”

“The physician certainly confirmed it quickly,” Wilhelm said, still in awe as his hands gently roved over my belly.

I smiled at that. “Yes. I was a bit bilious when Victoria offered me a plate of cranberry tart with cream. I cannot explain it—usually I’m so fond of sweets and little trifles such as that, but when the comingling of the bitter fruit and the sweetness of the cream made contact with my tongue, I became so ill that Victoria had to throw open the windows and permit me to be sick in the hedges. Then Sir Robert Peel called and I was ordered to rest—that was why I was unaware of their sayings, as Victoria probably thought I was too ill to discuss affairs of state. I am sure she shall mention it tomorrow...”

Wilhelm sighed, kissing the area just below my ear, and I suddenly shudder, and recall Sir John Conroy doing such a thing. “Do I offend you, meine geliebte?” he asks, shocked at my manner as I rise from the bed and go to stand beside the luxurious bassinet which housed Charlotte.

“Sir John kissed me there—once,” I say quietly. “It was before we left for court to celebrate Victoria’s birthday. I suppose I did not fully realize at the time that such an assault was deliberate to get me into his keeping... I don’t know,” I say, gripping the silken sides of the bassinet, my beautiful daughter with pale skin, red hair—the first of my children to have it—and green eyes sleeping soundly. “I do suppose his living with an Irish title is beneficial...”

Wilhelm stared at me then, and I saw too that his hands shook as I said these things to him, and I was not altogether surprised when he successfully managed to rip the coverlet slightly. “If O Hum ever sees fit to show his face in England or around me again, I shall challenge him to a duel, and I shall kill him.”

I shake my head at him. “Although I am quite sure that Victoria and His Royal Highness could forgive you for it, I am not altogether positive that others would give you that benefit. I am not at liberty to lose you, Wilhelm—it is too dark a thought to bear. I find that even considering O Hum’s return to England is a difficult thing to think of, however, I would request that, if he ever brings himself to do so, you keep your distance, as I would not wish you to be permanently separated from me.”

“It is not something I would wish to do, Felicity—being separated from you is one of those rare situations that I could not condone.” He sighs. “However, when the children get older, I would like to request of Her Majesty that we pull away from them ever so slightly...”

“Pull away from them?” I ask. “Whatever can you mean?”

“I wish you to see Coburg with me one day,” Wilhelm replies with a smile. “For you to see the land of my birth—to meet my brothers and sisters—as well as my father and stepmother...” Little tears escape his eyes then. “I find that, other than serving His Royal Highness, being wed to you and raising our children... It is not something of which I could ask for unless it meant a great deal to me, and, quite apparently, it does.”

I smile at him. “Perhaps when there is such an occasion, when Victoria is not with child, nor am I, that such an opportunity may present itself.”

“You are keen to go?” Wilhelm asks, with the enthusiasm of a boy.

I lower my eyes to where Flight is sleeping, curled as closely to the bassinet as possible, not wanting any harm to come to Charlotte. “Of course I wish to see the land of your birth, Wilhelm,” I reply. “Thankfully I am not a queen, so that I will be able to go.”

“You may not be a queen, my love, but you are a close friend of a queen, and you still may not obtain the opportunity.”

I nod, leaning down and brushing Charlotte’s forehead with my lips, and smile a little as she smiled a little in her sleep, her think eyelashes sweeping her cheeks and never opening. “That is true,” I admit.

“Ah, but you are pleased with your favor from the queen,” Wilhelm says, getting to his feet and coming to stand behind me, gazing down at Charlotte, his arms winding around me, settling upon my barely-swollen belly. “I should think that you would be pleased...”

“Of course I am pleased,” I reply, turning ever so slightly and kissing him upon the cheek, “for if I had not her favor, I couldn’t possibly have had you, nor these beautiful daughters we have...” I lower my eyes to his hands, firmly around my belly, and sighed. “Pray God it is your son in there,” I whisper.

Wilhelm chuckles, the sound entering my ear as his hot breath sends goosebumps down along my neck and arms. “As I tell you every time, meine geliebte—there is time enough for a son, and if we are blessed with a houseful of daughters, then our little Toria shall inherit everything.”

I sigh. “I shall not feel your family is complete until we have a son,” I tell him softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Your mother was the second of five daughters, and she ultimately had a great many sons...”

“Their first and second born children were sons—she did her duty twice over in less than two years. How am I supposed to compete with that notion, when our only son is gone?” I whispered.

Wilhelm tightened his grip around me then and brushed his lips upon my cheek. “I am sure you recall, meine geliebte, that we ourselves have three daughters—three _healthy_ daughters, and a new child on the way. I am sorry to disappoint you, my darling, but I find no disappointment in their births. How can I persuade you to think otherwise?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if you ever can,” I admit, covering my hands with his upon my belly. “All I do know is I’ll never be satisfied that I’ve done my duty until I give you a son.”

“You’ve done your duty thrice over already, Felicity. You’ve given me three daughters, who can inherit our estate...”

“But you want a son,” I whisper, peeking over my shoulder at him. “You don’t have to deny it; all men want a son.”

“Perhaps all English men want a son. I think you will find that Germen men are different in that aspect of married life...”

“Perhaps,” I allow, turning my eyes back to Charlotte, content to watch her make soft noises in her sleep.

. . .

I sat in Victoria’s rooms with young Wilhelmina Coke, niece of the Duchess of Buccleuch, who had become Mistress of the Robes in the wake of Harriet’s husband’s death and leave of court. Wilhelmina was as kind as she was quiet, and when the elderly duchess was out and about the court, or simply too tired to keep her in her sights, the task fell to me. As I was equal in rank to the duchess, and admired her caustic wit, she found such a thing to be doubly wonderful to have someone young, other than Victoria, for Wilhelmina to admire.

“Are you enjoying London, Miss Coke?” I ask her.

“Yes, my lady duchess,” she replied, looking up at me with a bright and kind smile, her cheeks slightly flushed at being included in conversation. “My aunt tells me I should think it a great honor that you even speak to me... With you being Her Majesty’s closest friend, along with the Dowager Duchess of Sutherland, of course,” she says.

I return her smile. “Think nothing of it, Miss Coke. And please, call me ‘Felicity’ when we are alone. We are so close in age that I find when I am addressed by my title I feel I have seniority over you...”

“Oh, but you do, my lady duchess!” she says quickly and, at my raised eyebrows, hastily lowers her eyes. “You will forgive my speaking so quickly, my lady duchess, but my aunt tells me that respect is so important...”

I smile, reaching across the divide between us and taking her hand. “Yes, my dear, respect is important, but so too is listening. Now, since we are alone, I am permitted to tell you to call me what I like. I should like for you to address me as ‘Felicity’, as I am your friend.”

“My friend?” she asked, hardly daring to believe such a thing.

I nod. “Quite so,” I reply, bending my head back down to stitch a bit at my floral-patterned sampler. “Now, my dear, have you heard of this famine currently going on in Ireland?”

Wilhelmina nods quickly. “Yes, my lad—Felicity,” she says as I raise my eyes briefly to hers. “I do hope the Prime Minister can manage to come to a worthy compromise with Her Majesty. I cannot understand why he insisted she cannot go to Ireland...”

“It is because of her safety,” I explain to her gently. “Sir Robert Peel could not guarantee her protection in a nation that has declared its independence. She is no longer their monarch, and they have none now, so perhaps they would feel a certain amount of resentment towards her.”

“Resentment?” Wilhelmina wanted to know, her pale eyes widening. “Towards the queen? But why?”

“Even though she is no longer their monarch, she has the means to help them, just not the means to transport herself there. Sir Robert Peel advises in such matters, and since he’s advised against it, they may feel that she has shut the door to helping them entirely.”

“Those poor, poor starving people,” she says quietly, shaking her head.

I smile. “Perhaps something will be done for them.”

She raises her eyes to mine before she sets down her own sampler and tugs a bit at her tightly-wound blonde bun, stationed perfectly at the back of her head. “Pray, Felicity, might we speak of other matters? I want not to serve the queen later in the day with a blotchy face...”

I find my smile widening then to her plight, before I nod. “Yes, of course, my dear, I wish not to disturb you. What shall we speak of, then?”

“You know of Edward Drummond, secretary to Sir Robert Peel, and Lord Alfred Paget, servant of the queen?” she asks.

I nod. “Of course; my husband speaks well of both of them.”

“Those men are quite...close,” she says, the barest hint of suspicion behind her tone as she tugs a bit at a misplaced thread of her sampler.

“They are a pair of gentleman friends,” I reply patiently, not wishing to entertain her meaning. “All gentleman should be permitted to have an everlasting friendship, as we ladies do. As my husband does with His Royal Highness, and as I do with Her Majesty.”

Wilhelmina sighs. “Very well. I suppose such a thing is very silly to bring up, really. Don’t mention it to my aunt...”

I shake my head. “Of course not,” I reply as the door opens from behind her and the pair of us get to our feet. “Ah, my lady duchess,” I say, greeting Wilhelmina’s aunt as I always do, with a reverent curtsy.

The elderly duchess smiles at me, leaning upon her walking stick and still able to bow her head to me. “Forgive the interruption, my dears, but the queen calls for you, Lady Felicity.”

I nodded. “Yes, of course,” I say, bending to put my sampler into the basket reserved for the others. “I shall go directly, then,” I say to myself, shaking out my skirts of my pale green afternoon down. I nod to Wilhelmina then with a smile her way. “Miss Coke,” I say to her, bowing my head.

“My lady duchess,” she says, curtsying to me.

I give a final curtsy to the duchess and bid her farewell before walking down the corridor and making my way to the queen’s study, where she spends many hours of the afternoon going over the boxes. As I round the bend, I am quite surprised to see Lord Alfred standing there, and smile at him. “Good day, Lord Alfred,” I greet him as I step forward.

Lord Alfred was looking very smart in one of his many afternoon suits. He had dark eyes, a fair complexion, and blond hair. He had a fine nose and jaw line, and he was always very courteous to myself and to Wilhelm. “My lady duchess. Are you on your way to the queen?”

I nod. “Yes, my lord, as a matter of fact I am.”

“I have business to attend to in that direction of the castle, my lady. Might I escort you to the queen?”

I smile up at him and take his offered arm. “I should be delighted, Lord Alfred,” I tell him and we proceed to walk along. “I was just stitching with Miss Coke in the queen’s presence chamber for over an hour, and she was quick to mention you after we mutually discussed the business in Ireland.”

“Quick to mention me, my lady duchess? What could she possibly have mentioned now?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Why, of your friendship with Edward Drummond,” I reply, and, at once, Lord Alfred stops dead and pulls me into a window embrasure, his dark eyes full of a sudden panic. “Now, don’t worry,” I say quickly, looking around to make sure that he and I were alone, “I was able to dissuade her from commenting on the topic otherwise.”

Lord Alfred breathes a sigh of relief. “You really shouldn’t have done so, you know that, Felicity,” he tells me in a voice barely above a whisper. “Ever since you caught wind of our whispered conversations and of our...embrace...in France, I was fearful initially for someone to know, but—”

“I am your ally, while Wilhelm is Drummond’s,” I inform him patiently, as I had done when they had been discovered by the two of us, “as promised.”

“It is so risky, Felicity,” he whispers to me. “I fear that we shall all be found out and locked away...”

“It shall not happen,” I whisper passionately. “I know there are those who say and believe that it is wrong, but what is so wrong about it? I have seen deep and passionate feelings, Alfred, and not very often. My mother and father are one, the queen and the prince are another, and then there is Wilhelm and myself... And there is, perhaps, the unfounded rumor of His Royal Highness’s brother, Ernest, and the Dowager Duchess of Sutherland... But then there is you and Drummond, Alfred, and I cannot allow the pair of you to be torn apart.”

“I do not even know if it is love, Felicity,” he replied, turning and looking out the window at the park and farther still, into the woods beyond, where he and Drummond would oftentimes ride in solitude. “Besides, Drummond is engaged, and he can hardly make that form of a promise to me...”

I shake my head. “It is such a shame, that Wilhelm and I may love and be together, just as my mother and father might me, and the queen and the prince, and yet men like you are punished for their love. It sickens me, Alfred, that we cannot live in a society that permits such a thing...”

“Mayhap, one day, it shall change,” he replies, turning to look at me with a sad smile before taking up my arm again.

We continue our walk down the corridor in silence before he leaves me at the door to the queen’s rooms. Alfred turns to me then and takes my hand in his, smiling down upon me. There are still no words between us as he takes my hand and kisses it, before letting it go and walking on his less than merry way.

A herald steps forward as I step through the halfway open doors and gets the attention of Victoria. “Lady Felicity, Duchess of Marquardt!” he says before he retreats to his post.

“Ah, Felicity, you’ve come,” Victoria says, getting to her feet and leaving her paperwork. “Albert has gone to fetch Wilhelm, but I suppose I may inform you of the developments in Ireland.”

“Developments?” I ask, stepping farther into the room and taking up Victoria’s outstretched hands. “Has a compromise been reached?”

Victoria nodded, smiling. “Yes. Ever since our Irish visitor arrived, I knew that something had to be done. I have decided to send relief in the form of food to that starving nation, and I’ve Peel’s approval.”

“That is wonderful news, Victoria!” I cry out then, throwing my arms around her, and am relieved when she accepts this affection. I hastily pull away, knowing that she does not wish for prolonged exposure. “Perhaps Wilhelm and I may help you as well?”

She nods, eagerly. “Yes, a great many nobleman will be needed to complete this operation successfully, and I know that you and Wilhelm shall be perfect for such a thing, my dear, dear friend.”

I turn then as Prince Albert and Wilhelm step into the room, and Victoria and I smile at our respective husbands as they gravitate towards us. “Has His Royal Highness informed you of the lovely thing he and Her Majesty are doing?” I ask him, looking up at him as he puts an arm around me.

“He has indeed,” Wilhelm replies as he and Prince Albert share a smile. “I have said that we will donate a few thousand pounds to the relief. We can spare ten thousand, if that is agreeable to you, at this time,” he states.

“Wonderful, thank you, Wilhelm,” Prince Albert says.

The doors come open then, and a groom from the stables enters then. “Begging your pardon, Yer Royal Highness, but one of yer horses’ has cast a shoe, and they say that yer the only one that can keep ‘im calm.”

“I shall go directly,” Prince Albert replies, kissing Victoria on the cheek and leaving us then.

“Forgive us, Your Majesty, but we’ve not checked on Charlotte or Maria Anna in quite a few hours,” I say, rather awkwardly then, not wanting to leave her entirely alone. “Might we briefly go and see to her?”

“Of course,” Victoria replies. “I’ve not been to the nursery since this morning myself. Perhaps we two may go and see Vicky and Toria later.”

“I would love that, Your Majesty,” I reply as I curtsy, and Wilhelm bows, and we leave her study. We left the next corridor and farther still until we were quite near her chambers and our own, and we soon came upon them. I threw open the doors and found Maria Anna playing with her governess in the front room, but as soon as we stepped inside, she let out a squeal and got to her feet, her rather fat little legs making a run for us, her black hair swishing.

“Mama, Mama!” she cried out, opening her arms for me.

I managed to lift her up then, moving to sit upon one of our couches. “Hello, my darling,” I whisper to her. “Fühlen sie sich heute gut?” I ask, wanting to be sure she is still keeping up with her intake of the German language.

“Ja, Mama, ich bin es,” she replies, and I lean down and kiss her forehead. “Wird Papa jetzt Charlotte bringen?” she asks.

“Ja, meine liebling,” I reply, nodding for Wilhelm to do so.

Wilhelm smiled, stepping into our bedchamber and quickly coming out with Charlotte, who was now fully awake. “The maid watching her informed me that she has just been fed,” he assures me as I gently put Maria Anna next to me and manage to take Charlotte in my arms.

“Mama, nein!” Maria Anna cries out, not liking playing second fiddle to her little sister. “Mama, bitte!” she wails.

Wilhelm comes to the rescue and sits down on her other side. “Komm jetzt, Prinzessin,” he says patiently, pulling her into his lap. “Das ist nicht das verhalten einer dame.”

Maria Anna crosses her arms. “No,” she says defiantly in English. “No more German, Papa.”

He sighs. “Very well—it is certainly enough for the day,” he says, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

“Mayhap Charlotte will behave differently,” I whisper, watching as Maria Anna’s eyes grow heavy as she leans against Wilhelm, falling into sleep, her thumb drifting into her mouth. I lean down and kiss Charlotte’s forehead. “I hear Toria has been doing well with Princess Vicky.”

“Yes, they truly seem devoted, very much like their mothers,” Wilhelm puts in with a wry smile.

“I cannot help it if Her Majesty favors my company,” I reply, “for I was there when she merely had the baroness as an ally.”

Wilhelm watches as Maria Anna’s governess slips from the room and into our bedchamber to speak with our maid. “Perhaps the baroness will finally be exiled from court.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “Surely not!”

My husband chuckles, looking around. “The prince is becoming impatient with the queen,” he whispers.

“Prince Albert? Impatient?” I demand.

Wilhelm nods with as much enthusiasm as a fishwife at market. “Quite so,” he tells me in a hushed tone. “I believe soon His Royal Highness will find a way to get Her Majesty to choose between them.”

“But the baroness has been with her since childhood,” I say, shaking my head, and gasp a little at Wilhelm’s raised eyebrows. “I dislike her as much as you do, and as much as the prince does. I told you what happened when Her Majesty gave birth to Bertie, and how she spoke to me so...”

“And the prince is her husband,” Wilhelm replies. “Who is to say whom she should hold onto?”

I sigh. “Well, the baroness cannot give her more sons,” I reply ruefully.

“And the baroness’s love for the queen is selfish, while the prince’s love is so giving—to everyone,” he says, reaching out and taking my hand. “Were it not for our mutual high favors, meine geliebte, I fear we would have not been permitted to choose one another.”

A knock at the door startles me then, and I rise to open it myself and, to my relief, Charlotte does not awaken, nor does Maria Anna. Opening the door, a butler stands there and smiles a little at Charlotte’s sleeping form.

“Urgent message for the Duchess of Marquardt,” he states. “From the queen,” he adds, slightly hastily.

“I am the duchess,” I reply.

“Here you are, ma’am,” he replies, handing it over and, following a bow with a slightly flourish to it, departs.

“Odd,” I say, crossing to deposit Charlotte in her smaller bassinet, which is always by the window in the presence chamber. “Perhaps she is rescheduling our trip to the nursery,” I put in as Wilhelm sits a little straighter then. I break the seal, and gaze at the few sentences upon the page, and immediately shake my head. “It is not good news, I fear,” I say quietly.

“What news?” Wilhelm asks, and, when the nurse and the governess appear, we motion for them to remove the children. “What is it?” he asks.

I sigh. “Terrible,” I whisper, resorting to reading aloud.

_Felicity—_

_We’ve just received news that the famine truly has most devastating consequences, for all of those involved, and even those who help will not be spared. Albert and I have just received word that kindly Robert Traill, the vicar who forewarned us about the famine in the first place, has died. Apparently, it was typhus, but many individuals are calling it Famine Fever—I am not sure whether to laugh at their cleverness or weep at their impertinence. _

_The court shall go into mourning immediately for this brave soul—did you know he set up a soup kitchen to help the poor people who were so overwhelmed by hunger? I am still intent upon sending relief to Ireland, and now I am especially so. One cannot live like this, Felicity, and if you and Wilhelm would still be willing to give ten thousand pounds to the cause, think of all the food we could buy and send, and the many lives we could save._

_These are distressing circumstances, Felicity, and we, as the English, must do all we can to ensure that these people are saved. It matters not if they are Catholic or Protestant—it matters if they are starving and in need of help, and they are that. I do hope a remedy can be found, but I fear it shall prove to be the direct opposite of a simple solution._

_Your Queen and Friend,_

_Victoria_

“Dear God, shall it ever end?” Wilhelm asks.

I raise my eyes to his, and find that they are full of unshed tears. “No, my love,” I reply, shaking my head. “I fear that the world shall always be full to the brim of hungry people, and we must not push them into the gutters and further into shame, but we must save them while we still have the chance.”


	10. A Melancholy Heart

“Scotland?” I asked Wilhelm, my eyes widening at the prospect of it all, my anticipation on the rise as I turned to look at Maria Anne and Charlotte, fast asleep beside our great bed. “Victoria has ordered it?”

“It has all been arranged,” Wilhelm replies. “Maria Anna shall remain at court as official companion to Princess Alice, and Charlotte shall go to Rosings Park. I have written to your mother, and she tells me she would be glad to care for her in our absence.”

I sigh, placing a hand on my belly, which had just begun to swell with our fifth child, which then moved within me. “How can we go?” I asked. “Surely, it would be dangerous for me...”

“Not so,” Wilhelm tells me. “We are to have a carriage to ourselves—Albert has requested it specifically.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Has he now?” I ask. “I do believe you had a little something to do with that, my love...”

Wilhelm smiled, not letting on to anything as he looked down at our two younger daughters, sleeping soundly. “I know you were saddened to miss the trip to France, for you were so ill and to close to your time with Charlotte,” he said gently. “I have been made aware by Albert that there will be plenty of physicians around, so we will be well looked after on this tip. And it is only Scotland, my dear—it is not as if we shall have to take a steam ship.”

I sighed. “Well, as we are traveling with Victoria and the prince, I am quite sure to be heavily guarded as well. Very well,” I say, taking another look at the sleeping forms of Maria Anna and Charlotte. “Can you do something for me?” I ask, not taking my eyes from them.

“Anything, meine geliebte. All you need do is ask,” Wilhelm replies, climbing upon the bed beside me.

“You know how we are sworn allies to Lord Alfred and to Edward Drummond?” I say, keeping my voice down in case a gossipy maid found herself cleaning our outer rooms.

Wilhelm leans down so as he is resting his head gently upon my shoulder. “Yes, meine geliebte. Of course I know it. Once I was able to have a better understanding of just how corrupt the institution of marriage truly is... Well, suffice it to say that I wish things could be different...”

I reach down and fast my hand into his own. “Part of me wishes, I suppose, that we could divorce and demand the same rights for those two gentlemen we hold so dear to us,” I reply, tears pricking at my eyes.

Wilhelm chuckles. “Do you wish that?”

“Yes. I even mentioned it to Lord Alfred...”

“Did you?” Wilhelm asks, tickled. “I myself brought it up to Edward Drummond, who thought such a thing was a gross overreaction.”

I sighed. “I’m afraid Lord Alfred thought so too—in fact, he went so far as to ask if you and I were mocking him...”

“Do not find fault in it, meine geliebte,” Wilhelm whispers, turning to brush his lips against my temple. “Perhaps it shall happen one day, but for now, we are stuck in an unfair society.”

“Mayhap it changes soon,” I reply bitterly.

Wilhelm reaches down and caresses my belly. “Well, I suspect it will not be for a while,” he says, disappointment riddling his tone. “But, we shall make the best of our trip to Scotland, and remain vigilant... You said that Miss Coke seemed to suspect something?”

I shrug. “I cannot be sure—I would not wish to gossip about a fellow duchess’s family, but here I feel that I must...”

“What did she say that unnerved you?” he asks.

I bite my lip, leaning closer into him. “Well, after she requested that we cease our conversation on the famine in Ireland, she immediately brought up Lord Alfred and Edward Drummond, almost at the drop of a hat...”

“Did she?” Wilhelm asks, intrigued. “It is not so unusual from the outset, my love, truly. Of course, Miss Coke is often seen in the company of Lord Alfred, and she stands to inherit a lavish lifestyle—and Lord Alfred, well, he too would likely get a generous sum of money upon his marriage. Methinks that perhaps Miss Coke fancies Lord Alfred...”

“But that was not all,” I protested. “It was what her tone and eyes insinuated almost immediately thereafter—like Lord Alfred and Edward Drummond were doing something wrong by keeping company together...”

Wilhelm sighs. “She could not know anything, could she? We have been so careful to keep it quiet...”

I sigh. “Perhaps another ally will make themselves known to us,” I reply, forcing myself to remain positive about the outcome. “It is illegal, what they’re doing—and so too is our assisting them. Who knows what could happen if any of us are caught? The consequences could be dire...”

“I hope that the queen’s and Prince Albert’s love for the two of us could ease some of the punishment,” Wilhelm says, tightening his grip upon me then. “But let us hope it does not come to that.”

I nodded. “Let us hope,” I reply fervently.

. . . 

Victoria had quite a busy itinerary planned, so it did not come as a surprise when we were told we could amuse ourselves in Scotland. I had been to Scotland a few times in my youth, but my last trip had been at ten-years-old, and I confess that I hardly remembered such a thing. When we arrived by carriage, I found myself eager to take a walk; once the servants showed us to our chambers, I immediately relieved myself of my traveling gown and requested a walking one, and Wilhelm and I made our way out into the gardens of the castle.

“It is beautiful here,” I whispered, finding myself overwhelmed with joy at the sight of the beautiful rolling hills around us. “I do hope that Victoria finds joy in this trip.”

“Mayhap she will—if there are forests about,” Wilhelm joked. “For if His Royal Highness is happy, then Her Majesty shall be happy.”

I nodded. “I like to think so,” I replied, leaning my head down upon his shoulder in an effort to feel closer to him. “I heard tell that they were to go on an excursion tomorrow...”

Wilhelm nods. “Yes, Albert mentioned it to me. I think he wishes to compare the forests of Scotland to England and Coburg.”

“One day I hope to see some German forests,” I say quietly. “And your family,” I put in hastily, so as Wilhelm will not think me prejudiced. “I do hope they are not terribly disappointed in me—this English girl you’ve married who has borne you one daughter after another...”

Wilhelm pulls me closer to him, pressing his lips to my forehead. “If they ever dare speak those words aloud, then they shall not be hearing from me for quite a long time, meine geliebte. I could do far worse to them all for speaking in such a way to you, but I could not. I could never forgive myself, nor could you forgive me, for it would give people just cause to take me from you...”

“Don’t say such things, I beg you,” I reply, ducking beneath his elbow and quickly enclosing myself in his arms. “I never want to be parted from you, Wilhelm—I love you. To even think it is madness...”

Wilhelm holds me gently yet firmly against him, one of his hands resting upon the small of my back, while he uses the second to tilt my chin up. “It is madness to be parted from those that you love,” he replies. “Rest assured I shall do all I am able to remain by your side,” he declares, leaning down to kiss me.

. . . 

Victoria calls me in to her chambers the following morning as she is being readied for the excursion into the forests surrounding the Scottish castle. Her expression is one of brightness as I enter her rooms, and I find I am pleased to see her. I await her utmost attention, hand on my belly as my child stirs within, and keep at attention so as she will not think me rude. When she speaks, I am all ears, as an ever-loyal companion of a monarch should be.

“The carriages have been made ready for the nobles who are unable to walk long distances, or simply do not wish to ride on horseback,” Victoria explains. “I’m afraid I could not get you a carriage with Miss Coke, Felicity—she is sharing one with Drummond, Lord Alfred, and my dear cousin Ernest,” she says, a smile on her face to let me know the oversight was not done on purpose. “You shall be in another grand carriage... But do keep an eye on her, would you, Felicity? I fear she may be prone to gossip...”

“Gossip, Your Majesty?” I ask, feigning ignorance. “Surely Miss Coke is well-bred enough to know that speaking of such trifle things in an errant manner is frowned upon in courtly circles...”

Victoria’s mouth twitches in amusement. “It was mentioned to me by Lord Alfred, I’m afraid. A servant such as dear Lord Alfred must always be considered... I’m told that you’ve made yourself a friend to Lord Alfred, as your husband has done to Edward Drummond...”

I nod with a smile. “Yes, of course. They are kind and considerate gentleman. I am an old friend of Drummond’s fiancée myself—we grew up in close proximity to one another... And Lord Alfred is so kind—he is quite like a brother to me,” I say, and find I am able to speak the truth in this matter.

Victoria nods. “A brother, you say?”

I blink, knowing her meaning but not letting onto it so quickly. “Surely, a brother, ma’am,” I reply carefully. “As we are often in each other’s company, I must say so, or wayward gossip would continue.”

She purses her lips—this is obviously not the reply she was looking for. “There are no romantic inclinations between you and Lord Alfred?” she asks.

I very nearly laugh aloud—if only Victoria knew who Lord Alfred Paget truly felt romantically towards, she would never in a million years ask me this question. “I can assure you, ma’am, there has not been, nor shall there ever be, anything romantic between Lord Alfred and I.”

Victoria smiles. “Ah, well, of course not. You’re so devoted to Wilhelm,” she says, and takes a look at my gradually expanding belly, a note of suspicion flickering through her silver eyes. “Quite sure now, Felicity?”

I do my best to keep my temper with her—I did not wish there to be a repeat of The Bedchamber Crisis, as I was sure nobody did. “Of course not, Victoria,” I say, ignoring the servants around us, and I feel their eyes on me as Victoria raises her eyes from my belly to mine. “None whatsoever. I am in love with my husband, and I shall always be so.”

She doesn’t fault me for using her Christian name in public, and merely steps forward to take my arm and walk with me out of her chambers. We proceed towards the main doors of the castle, meeting our husbands along the way and breaking away from one another to walk with them. Wilhelm and I remain close behind Victoria and Prince Albert, nodding and smiling to the citizens who have gathered around the gates to wave to us all. I give Wilhelm a quick kiss as we approach my assigned carriage, getting inside and watching from the window as Victoria, Prince Albert, and my husband take to their steeds and await the head of the party to escort us into the forest.

The roads outside the forests were fine enough, but once we’d cleared the first row of trees, it was plain to see that they were not used to having carriages upon them. I held my tongue from outwardly complaining—I may have been a queen’s favorite and with child, but I didn’t wish to be known as someone who readily complained about things which were trivial to people who weren’t in my condition. Finally, we were permitted out of the carriages, and I saw that the carriage that Miss Coke, Prince Albert’s brother, Duke Ernest, as well as Drummond and Lord Alfred had already freed its passengers.

“Oh, Alfred, isn’t the scenery sublime?” Miss Coke asked, looking about at the trees around us, while Lord Alfred’s eyes were elsewhere.

“Heavenly,” Lord Alfred replied, his eyes fixed upon Drummond, who had taken it upon himself to fish in the shallow waters of the brook below.

“Alfred!” I cried out, stepping forward, not wishing him to get caught in a rather compromising position. “I believe Wilhelmina was referring to the _trees_, and not the brook,” I said, raising my eyebrows at him, and Alfred, to his credit, looked quite humbled.

“Yes, of course, Miss Coke,” he said quickly, desperate not to fumble over his speech as he turned away from Drummond. “I do enjoy the trees, Miss Coke, truly I do...”

“Prince Albert enjoys the forests, I think,” Miss Coke said softly. “Well, perhaps you are more of a mountain man.”

“More of a sea lad, actually,” Alfred said with a chuckle.

“I like the mountains!” I say, just a little too wildly, in my effort to keep Miss Coke from figuring out what I’d known for so many months. “But what does it matter, really?” I ask. “All nature and scenery has the propensity to be beautiful, if only we take the opportunity to look for it.” I turn then at the sound of Victoria’s voice, and at the notion that she is informing the duke, our host, that she would like to ride back with Prince Albert. I can clearly see that she wishes to ride back with him alone, but the duke doesn’t seem too keen.

“Lady Felicity!” Victoria shouts, and I excuse myself from Wilhelmina and Albert, shooting the latter a warning glance to be careful as I spin around and make my way to Victoria’s side, quickly fetching her flask of water from the saddle bag upon her horses’ hip.

“No, I don’t want that—” She tells me, ready to protest.

“Be quiet and take it,” I say quietly to her, quickly smiling so as she will know I am in on her attempts to escape.

“My lady-in-waiting, the _Duchess of Marquardt_,” she says, emphasizing my title to our host, “and I would speak in private,” Victoria finishes, and the duke—who takes careful note of my swelling belly—orders his men to stand back, while he quickly moves to do the same. “What is the plan?” she whispers.

“You will act like you are prepared to return with the company,” I tell her in a whispered tone, placing a hand upon my belly so as anyone daring to look at us will believe I am telling her about my child. “I’ll let Wilhelm in on the plan—he will help,” I tell her with a smile. “Allow your horses to fall behind—as long as you are seen within the company, it will not matter,” I say. “Then, when you find a break in the trees—take it. I’ve heard there are many shortcuts around here. Take the shortcut—you will truly be just behind us, and have a few moments on your own without our host screaming in your ear.”

Victoria narrows her eyes. “He is a duke.”

I don’t allow her to get to me, and instead grin up at her. “But he does shout commands like a small child,” I reply.

Victoria laughs at that, agreeing to my plan. She motions that she is readying herself to go as I return her flask into the saddle bag, before turning on my heel and walking towards Wilhelm, who is beside the brook, allowing his horse a drink before we return to the castle. I walk towards my husband with confidence—this man was mine, and all of the court had to be sure of it.

“Husband,” I say, getting his attention rather quickly.

He turns about and smiles at me. “You’re not exhausting yourself, are you?” he asks me gently, placing a hand on my belly when no one is looking. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Just fine, thank you,” I reply, standing on my toes to kiss him. “Listen... Do you see Victoria speaking to the prince?”

Wilhelm looks up and spots the royal couple. “I do.”

“They would like a few moments to themselves,” I inform him quietly. “I need you to help them achieve that.”

“What are my orders?” he asks, grinning.

“Make sure they get as far back into the group as possible,” I reply. “They intend to use one of the smaller paths as a shortcut on their way back to the castle. They will just be a few minutes behind us, my love,” I say, straightening his long coat as he begins looking concerned. “Not to worry.”

“To lose a queen and her husband is a serious offense... What if we are caught?” he whispers, fear in his voice.

I shake my head. “They will not betray us,” I reply. “We are merely acting on behalf of the monarch and her husband—it was our sworn duty since we entered their services. We cannot refuse.”

Wilhelm nods. “Very well, then. I’ll do my best to ensure that the rest of the guards are preoccupied—so much so that they will not be missed.”

I stand on my eyes and kiss him again. “You are wonderful,” I reply, turning about and returning to my carriage. “I shall see you at the castle,” I tell him, climbing inside and sitting down. Just as we move to leave the forest—and the elderly passengers I am sharing the carriage with drift off to sleep—I turn and look out from my window. Smiling to myself, I watch as Victoria and Prince Albert slip on their steeds through the trees, and the company is none the wiser.

We return to the castle more quickly than I’d originally expected, and I am relieved when my carriage door is opened, and Wilhelm is standing there. As he holds his hand out to me and guides me down the small steps, I look up at him with a smile upon my face, letting him know that the mission was successful. However, his gaze upon me is dark and worried—I had never seen him like this, and it truly frightened me.

“Wilhelm?” I whispered. “What is it?”

“The queen and Prince Albert are missing,” he whispers to me and, turning, I see that the entire courtyard of the castle in in chaos.

. . .

“Other than His Royal Highness Prince Albert, you were the last person seen speaking to Her Majesty,” the Duke of Atholl tells me, this time growing impatient with me.

I nodded. “I know that. You have been preaching that to me for the last hour, my lord duke,” I say, my tone clipped. “And as I have informed you for the last hour, I have no idea where the queen is.”

“You were the last person to see her and speak to her, my lady duchess,” the duke went on, almost as if I had not spoken. “Surely she mentioned something to you about leaving...”

“She mentioned wanting to be alone with His Royal Highness,” I replied, “and that you would not allow it.”

“Of course I would not allow it—in public!” he said, slamming his fist down upon the table before him. “Her Majesty doesn’t know the land as I do, and now they are missing! What on earth possessed you to say what you did, my lady duchess? Tell me, or you shall be locked away—”

“You may not make idle threats to me, my lord duke, for I am an English subject, answerable only to Her Majesty Queen Victoria,” I said softly, fighting to keep my tone civil, “and as her subject, I swear loyalty to her. As her loyal subject, I cannot inform you of falsehoods, and as I’ve said, Her Majesty did not inform me that she did not know the land. She is Queen of Scots, as you say, and yet this is her first time in the country. We have maps in her study in the palaces in England, so I naturally assumed she had looked at them before our trip and attempted to look at the lay of the land—she has other things occupying her time, after all, my lord duke,” I say. “None of this is my doing, nor my fault,” I say, my tone firm as I rise to my feet.

“That is beside the point—”

“And I shall not continue to sit here until you realize how to attempt to find the monarch and her spouse that were lost in the country _you_ call home,” I say, my anger rising then. “I want Her Majesty found as much as you do—more so, probably, as I am English and her dearest friend. I will not sit by and have you speaking to me in such a way—implying that I wanted her gone. I want no such thing, and neither does my husband!”

“Of course he wouldn’t, if the rumors are true,” the duke replied snidely.

I cross my arms. “And what rumors do you speak of, my lord duke?” I ask, my voice resembling the hiss of a snake.

“The rumors that your husband was fathered by Ernest the First of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha!” the duke thundered.

I felt my hands twitch then as I reached up with one and firmly smacked the duke across the face. “Don’t you dare sully my husband’s good name!” I thundered at him, my voice full of rage.

“Nobleman talk,” the duke replies, running his hand along the angry red imprint I’d made upon his cheek. “Your husband’s would-be father was fighting for the Russian Empire in the Caucasian War at the time he was conceived. By slightly altering the dates, his mother was able to evade suspicion for a while, but she was always so unnaturally close to the royal family, that after Wilhelm’s younger brother, Ferdinand, that Wilhelm could not have been his son.” The duke smiles at my shocked expression. “Yes, for I know you have also not met his family, for his family suspects—as he doesn’t resemble any of his sisters.”

“I don’t believe you,” I whisper, yet I find that I am shaking, fighting with myself as to how Wilhelm could have kept this secret from me. However, could Wilhelm have known such a thing? I’d remembered then just how determined he was to return to Coburg with Prince Albert after word had reached England that the former duke had died... “It’s not true,” I say quietly.

“Ask your husband,” the duke replies with a smirk.

Shaking my head, I back out of the room, wanting to scream and to possibly break something into a thousand pieces. As I dashed along the corridor, images came into my mind as I considered the predicament I was in. Perhaps that was not all that Wilhelm was hiding—I imagined him in the arms of a beautiful German woman, who was blonde, of course—and concluded that he was hiding a great many things from me. As I tried to convince myself otherwise, I remembered that Wilhelm was on the hunt for Victoria and Prince Albert, and suddenly remembered something else as I heard the pretty Schubert piece enter my ears from the music room of the Scottish castle...

I followed the music into the music room itself, where Duke Ernest was sitting at the piano, his perfect fingers deftly playing the intricate piece. I shut the door behind me, the curtain falling down after me, and the duke raised his eyes and smiled at me, the pools of never-ending darkness sad. I knew then that he was overwhelmed with sadness at not being able to be with the woman he truly loved, my dear friend Harriet, while I myself was overcome with sadness at potentially being lied to.

“How are you, my lady duchess?” Duke Ernest asks.

“Felicity, please,” I reply, clicking the lock in the door at just the correct moment in my speech so as he will be none the wiser. “That was beautiful,” I go on as I cross the room towards him. “I know it is Schubert, but I forget the name of the piece of music.”

Duke Ernest smiles. “It is _Serenade_,” he replies patiently. “I like to play it when I am feeling sad or worried about things.”

“You must be worried for your dear brother and Her Majesty,” I say softly as I sit next to him upon the piano bench. “I know I am so.”

He nods. “Yes. And then there is the sadness...”

“About Harriet?” I ask quietly, and he averts his eyes from mine. “Don’t be saddened,” I tell him as I take his hand. “I know she cares a great deal for you and if she is meant to be yours, she shall be returned to you.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are, Felicity, to be allowed to marry one that you love so dearly...”

“Love comes with trust,” I inform the duke quietly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You do not trust Lord Wilhelm?”

I shake my head, dashing the tears from my eyes. “After the conversation I had with our esteemed host, I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

“What did he say?” he asks me. “Perhaps a duel can be arranged to avenge your good thinking of your husband.”

I shake my head. “No, my lord duke—”

“Ernest, please,” he replies, squeezing my hand. “Tell me. What has this rogue said of my dear friend Wilhelm?”

I lock my eyes with his. “Ernest... The duke has implied that Wilhelm is... That he is the son of your father...a...bastard,” I say, the last word wretched from my throat as I force myself to speak it.

Ernest sighs, shaking his head and shutting his eyes. “I would have thought that Wilhelm would have informed you of it long ago,” he tells me softly.

My breath catches in my throat for a moment on a sob. “It is true, then?” I ask of him, my voice shaking. “He is your brother?”

“And Albert’s, although there are rumors that he was fathered by our uncle Leopold, although he does not know that I know this,” he says with a smile. “But I doubt they are true. My uncle comforted our mother, nothing more...”

“Why would they keep this from me?” I whisper, wanting to get to the bottom of my husband’s deception. “Why?”

“To protect you,” he replies simply. “Had Wilhelm been acknowledged, he could have married someone far greater than that of a newly-created viscounts’ tenth child,” he tells me simply. “I mean no offense to you, Felicity,” he tells me, his tone gentle. “Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” I say, “although there is something you could do for me, Ernest.”

“All you need do is ask me,” he replies.

I shut my eyes then as my final tears fall. “I want to have a secret to keep from Wilhelm, as he has kept this from me.”

“What kind of secret?” Ernest asks.

I open my eyes and turn to look at him. “You know what kind of secret, Ernest—goodness knows you’ve committed a fair few yourself in your time. Wilhelm has told me of your nightly visits to whorehouses in Coburg.”

“That is hardly an appropriate discussion for a noblewoman to—”

I lean across the space between us before I can change my mind and press my lips to his, lifting his arms and putting them around my form. To my surprise, he does not pull back and protest, and instead, captures my mouth quickly in his own. It did not matter to me—the weight of the wedding band upon my finger—nor the child stirring in my belly. It did not seem to matter to Ernest either, as he pulls me towards the window, where a chaise longue lies beneath. He pulls the chord of the curtains around us, shrouding us in darkness, as he unlaces my gown in the dark, making quick work of it.

“You are experienced,” I mutter in amusement in the darkness.

Ernest chuckles back. “I am a man, Felicity.”

“A man I want,” I whisper.

“This cannot continue past this night,” he tells me, hesitating as I pull my skirts up to allow him access to me. “You are married...and carrying a child...”

I bite my lip. “Perhaps when this child is born, and the secret can be kept, and if we even like each other...”

Ernest nods in the shadows of the darkness. “Perhaps it may continue,” he allows then, unknotting his tie and pulling me into his arms, kissing every inch of my available flesh before I reach out then and yank down his pants with all my might and wrap my legs around his torso. “Careful, there,” he says.

I pull him closer to me. “We need not speak,” I reply.

Taking the hint, Ernest does what he likes, but all I can do is stare at a swatch of the wallpaper that is imperfect. Tears fill my eyes again as I commit this—this deception of my own—and know that I am no better from Wilhelm. I also don’t know how I shall ever be able to turn back from it, nor if I should even be able to, for I have committed the greatest sin of all.

. . .

After Victoria and Prince Albert were found, we returned to London soon thereafter and I keep my mouth shut on two counts—one, the secret I knew about Wilhelm; and two, the secret I shared with Ernest. He had sworn not to reveal it, but I knew that Ernest liked to drink, and when he drank, his tongue became lose. I knew I could not risk that, and begged him to remain vigilant in the weeks that followed, as my pregnancy progressed.

I had to send Toria back to Rosings Park in the days that followed, for Princess Vicky was quite ill and Toria was sure to catch it. With Princess Alice and Maria Anna located to my chambers for the time being, I did my best to keep my mind off the ill-health of the princess by keeping myself busy. I was never far away from the nursery, but sometimes it was nice to retreat to Victoria’s presence chambers and simply stitch a sampler or two...

“You lied to me,” Wilhelmina said one afternoon when we had returned from Scotland as we were stitching samplers.

I blinked. “I’ve lied to you, Wilhelmina?” I asked her, bemused. “What makes you think so?”

She looks up at me. “After Her Majesty and His Royal Highness were found, I came upon a rather curious sight in the gardens.”

“Oh?” I ask. “Do Scotland’s native plants differ greatly from England’s?”

Wilhelmina threw down her sampler. “Do stop it, Felicity!” she cried out, but quickly lowered her voice so as we would not be heard. “I _saw_ Alfred and Drummond locked in a passionate embrace—”

Immediately I fly at her then; I was relieved that, after so many nights of supervised company provided by Wilhelm and me that Alfred and Drummond had acted on their feelings, but not at this cost. “Wilhelmina, you must understand that this must be kept secret,” I whisper to her. “The complications that could inevitably arise from it could be dire...”

She purses her lips. “What sort of consequences?”

“Execution, banishment, or a mental asylum,” I say, letting go of her and returning to my own seat. “They are our friends—”

“Are they...in love?” she asks.

Immediately, I know the answer, so much so that I did not even need to think of it at all, really. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes. Very much so.” It is then that Alfred himself comes upon us and takes me away from Wilhelmina, and I do my best to follow him to a private location to talk. “What is it?” I ask him. “What’s wrong?”

“I had dinner with Edward last night...”

I smile at that. “That’s wonderful!” I cry out.

Alfred shakes his head, lowering his impossibly perfect blond head. “Edward informed me that he wished to end his engagement and implied that it was so that he could...”

“Oh,” I said, biting my lip. “Supposing his wife-to-be was an imbecile, it would certainly make matters for the future easier... What did you say to him?”

Alfred sighs. “I told him that he could not. He wishes to be a great politician, Felicity, and a great politician needs a wife by his side.”

“Do you love him?” I say, my tone barely above a whisper.

Alfred stares at me for a moment. “Love?”

“Yes, love,” I reply, utterly serious. “Come on—you must feel something from him after what happened between you in Scotland.”

“You know about...?”

“One of my spies—don’t worry, they can be trusted,” I assure him, a small smile coming to my lips. “Now tell me—do you love Edward?”

“Yes,” he replies.

“Then write to him,” I reply. “Tell him that you wish to meet at the same location and that you wish to talk over things. From what you’ve just told me about dinner last evening, it did not seem like a particularly long conversation...”

Alfred chuckles. “It was not.”

“Write to him,” I tell him, knowing that he was to be in privy council all day at Peel’s side. “Write to him and inform him that you’re willing to negotiate terms for your future together. It is time.”

Alfred throws his arms around me and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re quite wonderful—do you know that, Felicity?” he asks, before dashing off to find his quills and ink.

I stand there for a moment, hesitating as I place a hand upon my belly. “Not wonderful enough, it would seem,” I say to myself.

Deciding to get out of the palace for a while, I get a carriage and decide to ride out for hours. The sun is high in the sky by the time we get to town, so I leave my carriage outside the rows of ladies’ shops and purchase some yards of fabric, ribbon, and some hats for the upcoming warm weather. Perhaps Victoria would be fond of my choices, as we always needed a bit of brightness in our days. The shopping lasted far longer than I imagined, and as we turned around and returned to the palace, the sun had begun to set.

As we turned on the street at the privy council building, I see a great crowd of people gathered, and know that court must have just ended for the day. I knew then that the carriage could go another way, and tell the driver to stop and to let me walk the rest of the way to the palace. As I exit the carriage and walk along the sidewalk, I spot Sir Robert Peel and Drummond in the crowd, engaged in conversation. As I step closer to them, I am able to snatch their forthcoming words from their lips. Little did I know that, in this moment, my life as I knew it was about to change forever.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” Peel asks.

“Thank you, sir, but I have an engagement,” Drummond replied, and my heart leapt—it must have been Alfred’s invitation he’d accepted!

“Thank you for stopping me from making a fool of myself over Bentinck,” Peel says graciously to Drummond.

“Thank you,” Drummond replies with a smile.

Suddenly there is a break in the crowd then as a man of ill-repute steps forward, and brandishes a gun. “Sir Robert Peel, prepare to meet your maker!” he declares, and moves to fire.

In the next moment, Edward himself steps forward, shoving Sir Robert into the crowd and taking the bullets himself. As people scream around them, I find myself doing the same as Edward falls immediately to the ground as the man, and his weapon, are seized. Peel immediately bends down to inspect Drummond then and shouts at him, but to no avail.

“Drummond!” Peel shouts, his voice cutting through the rest of the screams at the men and women in the crowd make no efforts to stop. “Oh, God, talk to me!” Peel begs him. “Drummond! Drummond, talk to me! Drummond!”

Walking through the crowd then and towards Peel, I gently place a hand on his shoulder, and I am surprised that it is so easy to get to him. Peel immediately stiffens at the feeling of a hand upon his shoulder and turns around, seeing me standing there before him.

“Just me,” I say, finding it difficult to speak.

“My lady duchess...” He turns and demands that Drummond be moved directly and taken to the hospital. “You saw...”

I nod. “Yes,” I reply. It is then that I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen, and let out a sudden gasp as it moves through me.

“Lady Felicity?” Sir Robert asks, placing his hands upon my shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“No,” I whisper, shaking all over. “I need... I need to go to... I need a physician, Sir Robert!” I say in a desperate whisper, gripping my belly.

“Good God, is it time?” he whispers, snapping his fingers for someone to see to me to get me back to the palace.

I shake my head. “Months too soon... Oh, God in heaven help me!” I whisper, feeling faint as a carriage is summoned for me. “Buckingham Palace!” I am able to shout to the driver before getting in. “Drummond...?” I whisper, turning to get a look at the other carriage taking him away.

“I’ll see to it—and telling the queen and the prince,” he tells me gently, taking my hand and kissing it. “I shall pray for you both.”

I nod. “Thank you, Prime Minister,” I reply, and soon the reins are snapped, and we are flying down the street towards the palace.

The gates are opened and servants come running out, and I cannot fathom how they knew to come. I am helped from the carriage and am assisted into the palace, and thankfully Wilhelm—never leaving Prince Albert’s side—is nowhere to be found by anyone. I am taken directly to my chambers where I am put to bed, but it does no good. In the hours leading up to the inevitable, I request a quill, ink, and some parchment, determined to write a letter to someone. A thought comes to me and a seize upon it, writing not to Wilhelm, nor Victoria, nor Prince Albert—and instead, to the Duchess of Buccleuch. It was a shocking choice, but I knew that she could be another secret keeper in this matter of urgency, and she was a wise woman as well as a kind one.

_My dear duchess,_

_You may be old, but you are not blind—I know that you know what Edward Drummond meant to Lord Alfred Paget._

_This afternoon, I was in town shopping, and decided to go for a walk while I sent the carriage back to the palace. I walked by the privy council building, where I witnessed a startling—and devastating—turn of events. A man attempted to take the life of Sir Robert Peel, but the bullet was stopped by Edward Drummond himself. _

_I have just received direct word from Peel that dear sweet Drummond is no more, and has passed from this lift into the next. _

_I wish you to deliver this message urgently to Lord Alfred Paget. He will know what to do with the information, and you are just the person to see him through it, as I, at the moment, cannot do so._

_Thank you for helping me in this endeavor, and so too helping Lord Alfred. He is a dear friend to me, and while I cannot directly inform him of this, I wish you to be the one to do so._

_Your devout ally always,_

_Lady Felicity, Duchess of Marquardt_

The inevitable came quickly thereafter, after I had dispatched the letter without weeping upon the parchment. The physician was summoned when it was time, and the tiny body of my child was ripped from me soon thereafter. The physician took the baby and washed it and made sure that it was presentable to me before it was taken away to be buried.

“Will you name him?” he asked me, handing over the tiny bundle.

My breath caught in my throat at the notion that I had given birth to another son, but he had been taken as well. “Edward,” I said softly. “My little son shall be named Edward Augustus Marquart,” I told him in a quiet voice.

The physician nods then, snapping his fingers for my maids to come and clean me up and to make my bed presentable. I am helped from my bed and taken to the water closet, where I am given a bath. When left alone, I lift my head back and dip it into the hot water around me, going beneath it. I very nearly stay down there, but I could not do that to Wilhelm—not after everything else.

My maids help me from the bath and offer up a nightgown, but I find I do not wish to sleep. I request a black dress and they reluctantly give it to me, and I leave my suite of rooms and approach the nursery. Stepping inside, I hear the physician inform Victoria in the next room that the fever has broken, and as I step inside, I avert by eyes from Ernest and approach Wilhelm, standing in the shadows. After wishing the young princess well and apologizing to Victoria for not being there, I tell her all will be made clear later, but I must speak to Wilhelm now. To my utter relief, she allows it, and I take my husband to our chambers, where I make him sit down beside me.

“Princess Vicky’s fever has broken, my love! We must celebrate!” he declares, obviously believing my black is for her.

“No, husband. We cannot. We are in mourning.”

“Mourning?” he asks. “Whatever for?”

I sighed. “I went into town this morning, and did some shopping,” I declare then, nodding to the parcels across the room, which had been delivered earlier that day before everything had happened. “I told the carriage to stop by the privy council buildings and to allow me to walk back to the palace.”

“All right,” Wilhelm replied, not understanding.

“I saw Sir Robert Peel and Edward Drummond leaving the building,” I reply. “And a man came through the crowd and attempted to fire on Peel—”

“Is he?” Wilhelm asked in a moment of fear, for, like Prince Albert, he had a high regard for Peel.

I shake my head. “No. No, he is not, for Drummond stopped the bullet.”

“Stopped the...?” Wilhelm’s eyes widened then. “No... Drummond is—?”

I nodded. “He is, unfortunately,” I reply, averting my eyes as fresh tears form. “I saw it all, Wilhelm—all of it.”

Wilhelm immediately pulls me into his arms. “Felicity, love—”

I sob aloud then. “It caused me to lose our child,” I weep into his coat. “I am so sorry, Wilhelm—I failed you again!”

“Failed me...?” he asks, pulling back. “What do you...?”

“It was a son,” I whisper, pulling away from him. “I named him Edward Augustus Marquardt before the physician took him away...”

“Love, my love, you were subjected to a trying day,” Wilhelm tells me gently, pulling me back into his arms. “You are not to blame—”

“Stop,” I whisper then, and pull away for the last time. “When we were in Scotland, the Duke of Atholl informed me that you are the son of Duke Ernest the First of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha,” I say, scanning his face for a reaction. “Do you deny it, Wilhelm?” I whisper.

My husband bows his head. “I do not.”

I gasp aloud then. “Then you are a Coburg prince?” I whisper.

“I am the bastard half-brother of their current duke,” Wilhelm replied, his eyes locking with mine. “I know we spoke of honesty from the beginning, meine geliebte, but I didn’t tell you because I wished to protect you from the implications of marrying a—”

“Ernest informed me of that,” I reply, averting my eyes from his. “He informed me of that...before he comforted me against the husband that I so wanted to believe was honest and true to me, but now it has given me cause for such speculation against you, Wilhelm...”

“Felicity...”

I raise my eyes to his, saying nothing.

“...what have you done?” Wilhelm whispers, looking down at me as if he does not even know the woman sitting before him. “Did you lay with Ernest...as a man should only do with his wife?”

“What of Alfred and Edward?” I demand.

“That is different—and don’t change the topic of discussion!” Wilhelm yells at me, getting to his feet. “How could you—and with my brother?”

I rise to my feet immediately, rage flowing through me. “How could you not tell me of your true parentage?” I demand of him. “All this time I believed that you didn’t want me to go to Coburg with you because you were somehow ashamed of who I was!”

“I have never given you cause to believe that!” Wilhelm screams. “Although,” he says as his shoulders slack, “I suppose I have given you cause to doubt me, and for that, I apologize.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t want to do it,” I whisper, and feel Wilhelm’s eyes on me then. “I wanted it to stop the moment it...began,” I say, gesturing with my hands so that Wilhelm would know what I was talking about. “But I did encourage it up until that point, I admit...”

Wilhelm nods. “Very well.”

“Very well...what?” I ask him.

“I shall not divorce and humiliate you,” he tells me. “I won’t even annul our marriage, Felicity.”

I blink. “What?”

He sighs. “I’m in love with you,” he replies simply. “It will always be you, meine geliebte, and for some reason, in the one instance where I was dishonest, you broke our marriage contract.” He shakes his head. “I shall be the gentleman and not break it on my end...but until we can learn to trust each other again...”

“Wilhelm?” I ask, the fear of losing him still bubbling beneath the surface.

“...I am going to request rooms of my own,” Wilhelm replies.

“No!” I whisper.

“I must,” he says, spreading his hands. “I’ll send a man over later to collect my things and to organize various trinkets we share.”

“How long?” I whisper, going after him.

He shakes his head. “Even I cannot answer that.”

“Will you inform Prince Albert?” I whisper, knowing that to address him as Wilhelm’s brother would be going too far.

Wilhelm sighs. “I don’t know. Will you inform Her Majesty?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

My husband sighs. “Then we are at a standstill, meine geliebte.” He stares at me for a moment, before crossing the room and kissing me on the cheek. “Maybe we can be man and wife again—one day. But for now, my love,” he tells me, and my heart shatters when he does not call me ‘meine geliebte’ one last time, “I feel we both know that a difference in accommodations would be beneficial.”

I lower my eyes. “I am sorry,” I whisper.

He nods. “I know you are,” he replies, “as am I. But we cannot go through our lives without consequences. This is just one we have to face—separately, and not together,” he tells me, his voice so gentle as my heart rips from my chest, and follows him out the door, down the corridor, to God knows where, for all I know is, I will be lost without him.

_Perhaps_, I thought as I shut the door behind him, _had I not acted so thoughtlessly, I would not be losing the love of my life_. I made no moves to light the candles as the shadows grew thicker around me, and as my tears blinded my vision, all I could think of was, _What if_?

My heart leapt at the sound of someone knocking on my door then, and I prayed that it was Wilhelm, that he was coming back to me. As I got to my feet and approached the door, I wondered if it was Alfred, checking up on me and wanting someone to speak to. Or, perhaps, it was Victoria, wanting answers that a queen and close friend could give me. All I knew was as I reached out to grasp the golden handle upon my door, and open it to reveal a manservant, I am more than a little perplexed, and I think that Wilhelm has sent a man to take his belongings.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Letter from His Royal Highness to the Duchess of Marquardt.”

“Thank you—I am the duchess,” I reply, handing over a handful of coins to the lad and taking the letter, hoping that Prince Albert is not scolding me for acting in such a rash manner with Ernest against Wilhelm. I break open the seal then, and find that I am shocked at what I read.

_Felicity—_

_It is done and we have won. _

_Victoria has finally seen that, with our dear little Vicky in danger, that the baroness is unfitting to care for our children. She has banished her immediately, and the baroness shall leave for Germany by the end of the week._

_Such wonderful news is this, and I feel that times will be much easier for us all, knowing that even the royal children are safe from harm._

_From your dear friend,_

_His Royal Highness, Prince Albert_

_Postscript_ _: Do send for your little Victoria Henrietta immediately—little Vicky is already asking for her now that she is better._

I lower the letter then, wondering what was to come next. As I dipped my pen into ink and proceeded to write to Rosings Park, I heard the manservant come in from behind me. I told him that whatever Wilhelm wanted to take was all right with me —it did not matter to me anymore.

—END OF SEASON ONE—


	11. A Love So Strong

It was no secret around court that Victoria was with child again, and I did my best to be pleased for her. Harriet was now returned to court and seemed all too eager to please Ernest, now that Christmas had come and King Leopold of Belgium had brought a suitable princess for Ernest to consider for marriage. I knew it was entirely possible for Harriet and I to end our friendship, should it ever come to pass that she would know about my brief encounter with Ernest, so much so that, on the day Ernest was to go and fetch many trees—one for each member of the royal family, to be decorated just outside the banqueting hall—I managed to pull him aside, fear in my voice.

“What is it?” Ernest asked with a kind smile. Despite our transgression in Scotland, it was always a pleasant surprise that Ernest was always a perfect gentleman. “Is something on your mind, Felicity?”

I sighed. “You know as well as I do that our mutual lapse in judgement haunts me every single day,” I hissed back at him. “I know you gave me your word that you would not breathe a word about it, but—”

“You fear that my dear sister the queen will send you away?” he guesses.

I look around then, fearful that we could be discovered at any moment. “Not only that, but that my husband could poison your brother against me,” I whisper. “As well as the notion that my dear friend, Harriet, whom I know you love very much, could potentially wish to sack our friendship...”

Ernest sighs. “I had believed you and your husband had reconciled,” he put in, in an equally soft voice. “Why would he wish to poison my brother against you, since you two have returned to your mutual good graces?”

I sighed. Despite the fact that Wilhelm and I shared a bed again, it was only to produce children needed for more heirs. Since our reconciliation, I had produced a daughter, Harriet, before finally giving birth to another son, who we had too named Albert. “Reconciliation?” I say bitterly. “I hardly think so...”

“Albert says that Christmas is a time for family,” Ernest tells me, cutting across my thoughts then. “And though I do not believe it, I find it comforting to be about them as much as I have.”

I sighed. “You do not understand,” I reply. “Wilhelm still resents me for what I did... For what we did, and rightly so, for I’ve betrayed him, Ernest. Can you not see that?”

He nods, his dark eyes filled with sadness. “Yes, I can. By the same token, Felicity, he betrayed you as well. It seems as though you have atoned for your sins, but he not for his.”

I lower my eyes. “Perhaps,” I allow.

“Felicity, do you wish to know the true reason for my sadness on that day?” he asks me, softly. “About why I am sad, even now, when my brother is so happy with his life and family?”

I raise my eyes to his. “Why?”

“Because I have a disease,” he tells me softly. “I have a disease which I cannot cure naturally, and, as such, I will never marry and cannot have children. This is why I cannot succumb to my heart’s desire—Harriet.”

I stifle a gasp by quickly covering my mouth. “A disease?” I whisper, shivering all over. “Good God, no!” I grab him by the collar then, shaking him. “Could you have given it to me?” I hiss at him.

He shakes his head. “No, no sometimes people are lucky,” he says quietly, “unless you experienced sores and a rash after our encounter.”

Immediately, I shake my head—I would have railed at him otherwise. “No,” I say, the thoughts entering my subconscious then vile and unforgivable. “No, I cannot say I experienced such a thing.”

Ernest smiled. “Well, then perhaps something prevented you from getting it,” he tells me then, looking outside, to where the materials needed for chopping trees have already been assembled. “Pray, excuse me, Felicity,” he said quietly, and managed to untangle my fingers from his collar, “I have my previous engagement with my brother this afternoon.”

“Of course,” I say, letting him go willingly. “Do have fun,” I managed to get out, before turning about and going on my way. Shakily, I make my way away from him and head down a main corridor, running into Wilhelm, and quickly avert my eyes from his. “And how are you this afternoon, husband?” I ask.

“Very well, wife,” he replies, looking around to be sure that we are alone. “I shall be joining you this evening.”

I raise my eyes to his. “Oh?” I ask, cursing myself that my voice is full of hope that I will have the pleasure of his company.

“Yes, it has been eleven months since we were blessed with our Albert,” he says softly as he regards the thick snow falling out of the window beyond, where we can see Prince Albert and Ernest leaving on their tree cutting expedition towards the forest. “I should think it is time to attempt to make another baby.”

I lower my eyes again, all hope gone. “Yes, of course, husband. Whatever you may wish, you need only command me.”

Wilhelm looks pained at the declaration, but merely takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing it. “I assume the queen will have need of you,” he says in a stoic-like manner, before dropping my hand and walking away from me.

Careful not to permit myself to cry, I continue walking down the corridor, towards the study of Victoria, and the doors are let open for me immediately. I smile at my queen and curtsy to her, and she returns the smile, motioning for me to sit. I go and sit in the offered chair, Isla lets out a small whine so I bend and lift her into my arms, stroking her soft white fur as Victoria’s quill becomes the only apparent sound in the room. Finally, she returns her quill to the pot of ink and gets to her feet, moving to sit beside me.

“Are you all right?” she asks me quietly.

I give her a smile. “It is a year to the day, you know,” I tell her softly, running my fingers along Isla’s soft ears very carefully. “The notion that I no longer have my dear Flight with me is still a devastation...”

Victoria smiled. “Well, perhaps for Christmas, someone shall help you in that regard,” she tells me gently. “Although, there is something...”

“What is it?” I ask.

“I’ve sent for a Captain Forbes to come to court soon,” she replies.

“Captain Forbes?” I ask, the name sounding vaguely familiar. “And what has he done of significance?”

Victoria smiles. “Apparently, he has discovered a princess, from Africa, in need of our help,” she replies.

“An African princess?” I breath, allowing Isla to walk from my lap to Victoria’s. “I am in shock, to say the least.”

She sighs. “As in shock as I was when Wilhelm demanded of Albert to give him a separate bedchamber?” she wants to know.

I lower my eyes. “I would not begin to presume to what degree you were shocked, Victoria,” I reply.

“What happened between the two of you?” she asked. “You had separate chambers for two months...”

I raise my eyes to hers, feeling the tears entering them. “Have you ever been faced with a situation where you yourself firmly believe something, and deliberately do not speak with the person the situation is about?” I whisper then. “And, in so doing, become so enraged that you end up committing the greatest crime, one that you cannot take back, even if you wanted to? One that you regretted immediately after it had begun, but grew up knowing that you were born to be subservient to men, and could not stop it?” I whispered to her. “And then, when the worst happens, and it all comes spilling out, and you cannot stop any of it? And then you’re faced with the ultimate wrongdoing, and then everyone is hurt and pained by each parties’ actions?”

Victoria goes white. “When was this?”

“In Scotland,” I reply, lowering my eyes again, covering my face with my hands as I continue weeping.

“What happened, Felicity?”

“You will send me from court,” I blubber.

“I shall not,” she says, determination in her voice, so much so that I raise my eyes to hers. “You were with me in the final days of darkness, and I shall be forever grateful to you. Now it is an opportunity to return the favor. I’ll not fault you for anything, Felicity, I swear it.”

“The Duke of Atholl informed me of something disturbing, and I acted rash following the revelation,” I replied.

“What did he say to you?” she whispers, rage in her pale eyes. “What did that blaggard dare say to you?”

“He said that Wilhelm was illegitimate,” I reply, my voice shaking at the prospect of informing Victoria of this.

“Illegitimate?” Victoria demands. “What?”

I nodded then, tears continuing to stream down my face. “He stated that he was not a true Marquardt, and that his true family was... That his true family was...”

“Was who, Felicity? Tell me.”

I raise my eyes upwards. “God forgive me,” I whisper before turning to look upon her, my dearest friend, once more. “The Duke of Atholl informed me that Wilhelm’s mother, Maria Anna, became the mistress of your uncle, Ernest, Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha,” I tell her in a rush. “Which would make Prince Albert and Duke Ernest—”

“Wilhelm’s brothers,” Victoria replies, a new understanding entering onto her expression then. “Did anyone confirm this theory?”

“Ernest... Duke Ernest himself did,” I say quietly, lowering my eyes then, feeling physically ill at the direct mentioning of my greatest sin of all. “He confirmed the theory, saying it was all true.”

“And Wilhelm?” Victoria asked.

“Confirmed it as well,” I reply. “Neither party denied it.”

“And so, because you felt wronged by Wilhelm, and Ernest has been informed by Uncle Leopold more than once that he may not be with Harriet, you sought comfort with Ernest?” she guessed.

I keep my eyes lowered then, shivering as more tears passed from my eyes. “Yes, and God forgive me for it,” I whisper.

Victoria unexpectedly reached out then, taking my hand. “You were obviously in a state of distress—and you were with child at the time,” she replies. “Of course, it had to have been when Albert and I went missing—all of the court was frightened of the eventual outcome of our return,” she said gently.

I nodded. “It was. The Duke of Atholl was questioning me, attempting to figure out if I was involved directly. Of course, I told him nothing, for although I was, I had as much knowledge as your whereabouts as anyone at court did.”

Victoria squeezed my hand, waiting for my eyes to meet hers before she spoke once more. “I shall not punish you, nor shall I make an example of you,” she informed me quietly. “Of course, had Wilhelm demanded a divorce or an annulment, there would of course have been an inquiry, but he did not.” She pursed her lips. “Why did he not?”

“I believed he thought that there was still love between us,” I reply, “and that he believed that we had both been wrong... But it has been so long, Victoria, so long since we have permitted ourselves to love...”

“He shares your bedchamber—”

“Some evenings,” I reply. “But it is merely a formality for more heirs. He is with me during the births, of course, and stands beside me for the christenings, and walks me into dinner—as you know. We dance in public and converse, but we are virtual strangers when we are alone... I shall never forgive myself for what I have done, Victoria. Never.”

“You must forgive yourself,” she replies, and my eyes snap to hers. “I know it sounds silly, but forgiving yourself is the first thing you must do. Only when you permit yourself the possibility of forgiveness, will the rest follow suit...” She hesitates for a moment, before asking, “Have you forgiven Wilhelm for not informing you of his true parentage?”

I nodded. “Yes, after the birth of Harriet.”

“Did you inform him of it?” she asks.

I blinked, not wholly sure of what Victoria was asking me. “What do you mean?” I found myself asking.

She smiled. “Did you inform Wilhelm that you forgave him for not informing you of his true parentage?”

I sighed. “I would have thought my actions and behavior towards him would have spoken for themselves...”

“Men are interesting creatures, Felicity,” Victoria informed me gently. “They have to be told things—sometimes more than once—to fully understand and appreciate their meaning. They may say they have heard you before, and they may have, but it is always safe to inform them of things more than once.”

I squared my shoulders. “Should I just come out with it, then?” I ask her. “Come out with my forgiveness?”

“That is one way of accomplishing the task, yes,” she replied. “It is always better to be direct, Felicity. Don’t attempt to allow him to get out of the conversation—it needs to be heard.”

“I will try,” I reply.

“No, you will,” she said firmly, squeezing my hand again.

I nodded at her. “I will,” I say, feeling utterly steadfast in my loyalty to her and, because of that, knowing in my heart that I had to save my marriage.

. . . 

Wilhelm and I were summoned to the great hall to meet with Captain Forbes, who had brought young Sara with him to court. Wilhelm and I stood off to the side, with Wilhelmina, Albert, and the Duchess of Buccleuch, watching the captain present the little child next to him. She was a pretty little thing, yet unlike anything I had ever seen before. She wore a dress that anyone that age would, and when Captain Forbes informed Victoria that she was eight years of age, my heart went out to her. We learned that she was the sole survivor of an African kingdom, and such a thought made my heart go out to her.

“Most unfortunately, Sara had been forgotten in the carnage and I was able to save her by saying her death would displease the greatest queen in the world,” Captain Forbes said passionately.

“Quite right,” Victoria put in.

“King Gezo then said he would give Sara as a gift to you,” the captain said, albeit a bit uncomfortably at the prospect, “as a token of friendship from one nation to another.”

“He’s giving me a little girl?” Victoria asked, in a voice full of shock.

“His desire to impress you is the only reason why Sara is still alive, ma’am,” he replies reverently.

“Well, I am glad of that,” Victoria says.

“So am I, ma’am. Sara is... She is a most delightful little girl, and a very quick learner. She learnt English on the voyage over here. And my wife has already taught her how to read and write,” Captain Forbes continued.

“Well, I cannot accept her as a gift, of course,” Victoria says, and I find myself relaxing with relief. “But I think it is only fitting that someone of royal birth should be asked to stay here at the palace.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” the Duchess of Kent asks, and Wilhelmina, who was standing on my other side, and I share a glance.

“She is a princess in her own country, Mama,” Victoria chides her. “What could be a better expression of the Christmas spirit than by taking in an orphan? Who has suffered so very much,” she said, in a voice only intended for her as she quickly gets to her feet. “I can see that you have royal blood, Sara,” Victoria says, turning to the little girl and walking towards her then. “I want you to know that you are welcome here and will be quite safe.”

. . . 

Ernest’s and Prince Albert’s tree expedition had been slightly delayed, but what followed would be truly a sight to behold, according to Victoria. I just smiled and listened to her words of excitement, which were interrupted by a household servant coming into her study. It took a moment for me to realize that it was Mr. Penge, the master of the household, as I straightened in my seat, especially when he approached me directly.

“My lady duchess, a missive,” he said quickly.

“For shame, Mr. Penge,” Victoria said, twittering slightly. “I thought that Albert was ordering you about with how the Christmas trees should be hung outside the banqueting hall.”

Mr. Penge had the good sense to chuckle. “He did, Your Majesty, but the Duke of Marquardt came upon us then and asked for someone to hand-deliver this to his duchess. Of course, His Royal Highness believed it best for the task to be performed by me, ma’am.”

“Well, of course,” Victoria replied, picking up her tea cup and sipping it ever so slightly, “for nobody else in the palace knows it better than you do.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mr. Penge replied. “Now, if you would excuse me, ma’am, my lady duchess, I would return to the foyer outside the banqueting hall and complete the task set forth by His Royal Highness.”

“Of course, Mr. Penge,” Victoria said. “Do go on.”

“Ma’am,” Mr. Penge said, bowing to Victoria. “My lady duchess,” he said to me, in a bow far less substantial, before exiting the room.

“What has Wilhelm said now?” Victoria asked as I lowered my eyes to the letter, before opening it and gazing down upon it.

“Perhaps I should look,” I said, averting my eyes from the thick parchment betwixt my fingers and smiling at Victoria, before hastily opening it.

_Felicity—_

_A strange delivery has been sent forth. What to do with it, I know not what. I do think that something should be done, but perhaps you would be the better person to decide what to do._

_I shall be awaiting you in our rooms._

_—W_

“How peculiar,” Victoria replied. “Perhaps it is something to do with Christmas. I do suppose that your Toria and Maria Anna will be considering what to do for Vicky and Alice, and your Albert for our Bertie...”

I nodded, quick to smile at her as I pocked the letter. “Of course, just as Wilhelm and I have begun to consider about what to do for you and Prince Albert.”

Victoria smiled as I got to my feet. “If only Albert could bring himself to at least interact with Sara, I cannot even think of would be a better Christmas present in all the world.”

I hesitate before walking to the door. “He has not grown warm to her yet, then?” I want to know.

She shakes her head. “He has not.”

I sigh, biting my lip. “Well, I shall attempt to think of a solution with you, Victoria, however, I must go and see what my husband is doing.”

She smiled. “Yes, of course, Felicity,” she replied. “Go forth—and remember, do tell him that you forgive him.”

I nodded, flashing her a smile. “I will do so,” I inform her then, turning on my heel and leaving her chambers. I make my way down the corridor, finding my way easily to my suite of rooms before letting myself in. I see Wilhelm sitting on one of our couches then, the children surrounding him, and find I cannot help but smile at the sight I am seeing.

Six year old Toria is sitting beside her father, her long, curly black locks secured by a green silk bow as she speaks in rapid German to him. Five year old Maria Anna, her own raven-like hair secured by a white bow, sits on her father’s other side, her German nearly as quick, as she attempts to draw his attention away from Toria, who Wilhelm is still listening to. With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her red hair wild about her face, three year old Charlotte giggles into Wilhelm’s ears and pulls at them ever so slightly, wanting his attention for herself. Harriet, blonde haired and blue-eyed, stares adoringly up at Wilhelm from his knee, not saying much as she is nearly two, but does her best to look between Wilhelm—the only one of our children who is obeying his instructions for quiet—while Wilhelm keeps a firm grip upon something in the crook of his left arm. That thing would be our little heir, eleven month old Albert, who is fast asleep despite all the noise, a fine crop of brown hair upon his head, his green eyes hidden from us all, but his dark lashes sweeping his cheeks all the same.

“They certainly seem to love their papa, don’t they?” I asked, my heart stirring within me then as Wilhelm looks up at me, joy in his eyes.

“Mama, Mama!” Toria cries, getting to her feet then and jumping from the couch, crossing to me and holding out her arms to be picked up.

“Oh, dear,” Wilhelm says, laughing as I struggle to pick up our eldest, but just manage to succeed as Maria Anna comes to my side next, disappointed that she did not get there first. “Well, come along children,” he says, helping Harriet from his lap, all the while keeping a grip upon Albert. “Mama and I need to talk urgently—say your goodbyes before Toria and Maria Anna are returned to the royal nursery, and the rest of you to your bedroom.”

I lower Toria to the ground, kissing her briefly before picking up Maria Anna for a moment, kissing her as well before moving on to Charlotte and Harriet. Next, I give Albert a hasty kiss before the two governesses step forward, one for the royal nursery and the next for the bedroom the rest of our children shared. I smile and wave to my children, who thankfully don’t make a show of themselves as they leave us, and turn to my husband.

“Mr. Penge delivered the letter himself to Victoria’s study,” I said quietly. “Is everything all right?”

Wilhelm smiled tightly, the warmth in his eyes gone with our children. “I heard tell you wrote to Edward Drummond’s fiancée in the wake of his death and his quick burial,” he informs me.

I nodded, wringing my hands together. “Yes. If such a thing displeases you, I am sorry for it,” I reply. “I only wished to give her comfort in the likely dark days that followed her. She was such a good friend to Wilhelmina and me that I believed that offering her comfort would be appropriate...”

Wilhelm shook his head, his eyes somber at the notion of our fallen friend. “No, I would never say that you offering comfort to someone in such pain was untoward in any way, Felicity.”

“I thank you,” I replied quietly.

“But you received a note from her this afternoon, and I thought it best for you to read it as quickly as possible.”

I raised my eyes to his. “Have you read it?” I asked, no resentment in my tone, as I knew full well I would have done something similar, had our circumstances been revered in some way.

He sighed, his mouth thinning. “Yes,” he admitted.

I gave a slight nod then. “Very well, then,” I said quietly, turning towards my desk beside the window, where I had written my mother in the wake of Wilhelm leaving me all those months ago. I saw the letter opened upon my desk, and walked towards it then, slowly, heart in my throat as I spotted the slanted, neat writing of Edward Drummond’s fiancée. It was short and to the point, informing me that she was now accepting suitors and that she wished to leave her life of Edward behind, which I could understand wholeheartedly and, since I was a part of that life, I knew that it meant me as well.

I saw the little thing the folded up parchment carried, and unfolded it ever so slightly, the dark hair of Edward Drummond staring back at me. I fingered it ever so slightly, and found it was quite smooth. I wondered then if Alfred himself had ever managed to touch it. My answer came swiftly, that it was likely so that he had done such a thing in his, Edward’s, lifetime.

“Why did you ask for a lock of Edward’s hair?” Wilhelm asked.

“Friends often ask for such a thing, do they not?”

“I suppose so,” Wilhelm replied. “I suppose so...”

. . . 

I left my chambers then, after Wilhelm said he would go and check on the preparations Prince Albert was making, while I had Edward Drummond’s lock of hair clasped in my hand. I found my interaction with my husband far from enlightening, but at least knew that we had made enough progress not to scream at one another during every interaction. I made my way to Victoria’s presence chamber, knowing that she herself was in her study, and found exactly who I was looking for as I crossed the threshold.

“Good afternoon, duchess,” I said, curtsying to the Duchess of Buccleuch. “How are you this afternoon?”

“Ah, my dear Felicity,” she said, smiling warmly at me as I crossed the room to perch on the chair beside her. “I am well, thank you.”

“I am glad to hear it, duchess.”

“How are you, Felicity?”

“Everything is on the mend, I believe, duchess,” I reply, remembering full well that she had been the first, and only, person to realize what had befallen Wilhelm and myself.

“Wonderful,” she replied, leaning closer to me. “I must say, I took to heart that conversation you had with me about Wilhelmina and Lord Alfred,” she told me, a shine in her dark eyes.

I raise my eyebrows then. “You have?”

She nodded. “Yes. Merely mentioning to her the promise of Lord Alfred as a potential husband has piqued her interest twofold.”

I smile at her then, clapping my hands. “That is wonderful,” I reply, looking around then. “I wonder, do you know where Wilhelmina is finding herself at this very moment? I have a theory about how we can get them to come together once and for all...”

The duchess smiled. “I myself prefer for things to happen naturally, but in this case, I believe a shove in the right direction would be of help.” She looked around the room, almost as if attempting to remember where Wilhelmina had gone off to in the last few moments. “I believe she stepped out for a walk. Mayhap you can find her before somebody else does.”

“Thank you,” I reply, leaning forward and squeezing her hand briefly before I rise to my feet and walk out of the chamber. I walk from one corridor to the next, before I finally find Wilhelmina. “Wilhelmina!” I call out to her, and she turns her little blonde head and smiles at me.

“Lady Felicity,” she says.

“None of that, none of that,” I say, gently waving her off. “I hear the duchess has been speaking to you of Lord Alfred.”

Wilhelmina sighed, a flush coming to her cheeks then, a shy smile overtaking her lips as she considers it then. “You got to my aunt, did you not, Felicity?” she asked, looking away.

I nodded. “I did,” I say, following her eyes and managing to catch her gaze. “You don’t need to hide it from me, Wilhelmina.”

“Hide what?” she asks.

“Your feelings for Lord Alfred,” I reply, and she quickly averts her eyes from mine again. “It is all right. I know you’ve got them.”

Wilhelmina sighed. “I do,” she said quietly. “I know it sounds silly, given all that we know about them...”

“Wilhelmina...” I begin.

“_Don’t_ deny it,” she said then, her voice firm, yet not unkind. “I know you know they were special to one another—Lord Alfred and Edward Drummond. I know that you know that they loved—”

“Don’t say it,” I said, and my severe expression was enough to cut her off. “We shall not speak ill of the dead, Wilhelmina.”

She lowers her eyes. “You are right. I am sorry.”

“Find Lord Alfred,” I said, looking around before reaching into my pocket and fasting the lock of hair—still wrapped in the handkerchief Edward’s fiancée had sent me—into her hands. “Give him this.”

“What is—?” she asked, before unfolding the handkerchief and getting a good look at what lay inside. She let out a gasp. “Felicity...”

“Florence wrote to me herself,” I say quietly, shaking my head, “and I accepted her offer, but you need not tell him that. Tell him it is from you.”

She shook her head. “I... I don’t...”

“He will like it,” I assured her, squeezing her hand briefly before letting her go. “I shall go and find him and send him her way. Mayhap we shall be able to celebrate something else this Christmas,” I call out over my shoulder, making my way down the corridor and up another, hoping that I can find Lord Alfred. My prayers are answered when I spot him coming in from outside, handing his wool coat and thick hat to a servant before he spots me.

“Ah, Felicity! How are you this lovely day? Beautiful weather, isn’t it?” he asks, and then, sees my expression. “Why Felicity! Whatever is—?”

“Go and find Wilhelmina at once,” I tell her.

Alfred blinks. “Find Wilhelmina? But why?”

I look around for what must have been the thousandth time that day, for I soon found that I was speaking of far too much in the corridors of Buckingham Palace for my own good. “She needs to see you.”

Alfred lowered his eyes. “I see.”

“Do you?” I ask him. “Alfred, you are one of my dearest friends, but I do not believe you do see very well.”

He raises his eyes to mine. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that I do not believe understand Wilhelmina’s feelings towards you,” I tell him in a rush. “Can you not see them, Alfred? Can you not sense them?”

Alfred sighed. “Yes, Felicity. I can see and sense them. I can.”

I smiled at him. “And how do you feel, Alfred?”

He looked around then and, after judging that it was safe, managed to form the words he needed to say. “After Edward...”

“There are different kinds of love, Alfred,” I said gently, and his eyes locked with mine then. “For example, I love you as my brother. I love Her Majesty as my dearest friend and my sister. And I love Wilhelm...” I stopped there, and Alfred raised his eyebrows—although he had suspected discord between Wilhelm and I, he had never directly mentioned it. “...I love Wilhelm, as one should love their protector, husband, and lover... I love him above all things—him and my children combined, Alfred... Do you not wish to have a family?”

Alfred smiled. “There are truly different kinds of love, are there not, Felicity?” he asked me then.

I nodded, crying yet again, and yet I was laughing, at two of my dear friends coming to terms with their mutual destinies. “Yes, Alfred. Exactly. I knew you would understand.”

“I do, Felicity, I do!” he cried out then, gripping my hands then and kissing me upon the cheek. “Where is Wilhelmina?”

“Near the entrance to the gardens,” I reply. I lower my eyes to our hands, still clasped, and find the ring with the blue stone that I frequently wore, which I had caught Wilhelmina eyeing at more than once, yet never made direct mention of it to me. I loosened my hands from Alfred’s then and removed it from my finger, placing it into his palm. “Give her this, when the time is right,” I said to him then, before kissing him on the cheek and parting his company then.

As I took ahold of my skirts and ran down the corridor in the opposite direction, I saw outside the main windows a carriage, where Captain and Mrs. Forbes stood, ready to take Sara back with them to their home. I smiled at the picture, knowing that it would be a wonderful Christmas indeed, for everyone was returning to where they were supposed to be. I continued my pace down the corridor then, where I saw Prince Albert—newly recovered from his near-drowning experience in the iced-over pond—speaking to Wilhelm. I hesitated for a moment, slowing my pace then and approaching them.

“Your Royal Highness, husband,” I said, curtsying to Prince Albert and nodding to Wilhelm in the moment that followed.

Prince Albert smiled; although he was the dear friend of my husband, and his first loyalty was to him, he had never shied away from his polite behavior towards me in the last years. “Lady Felicity,” he said, turning to Wilhelm. “Victoria and I expect you both in the banqueting hall this evening for the reveal,” he tells the both of us them, smiling at each of us. “Of course, you may choose to dine with us or in your chambers. It is up to you.”

“We shall be there, Albert,” Wilhelm replied.

“We are much looking forward to it,” I said quietly.

“I must go and see to the final preparations,” he says, smiling at us before slipping away from us.

“Wilhelm,” I say, turning to my husband then, and, for the first time in the past two years since our emotional separation, he looks at me as if he is seeing me for the very first time. “We must speak.”

“Come, then,” he said, and took me by the arm. We walked down the corridor which would take us directly to our chambers. As we reached the doors and stepped inside, I felt my heart in my throat as he closed the doors behind us. “I am listening, Felicity. What is it?”

“I love you,” I said then, and he turned to look at me as I felt the words leave my lips before my cowardice could call them back. “I love you and find I can no longer be in a marriage where, despite my failings as a wife, my husband does not love me anymore.”

“Is that what you think?” Wilhelm asked. “That I no longer love you?”

I find the tears have returned as I nodded. “Yes,” I reply, turning halfway from him, for I do not wish for him to see me coming undone in such a way. “I’ve apologized so many times over the past two and a half years, Wilhelm, and you never say you’ve forgiven me...” I whisper, gripping onto one of the couches inside our outer rooms, the hard material biting into the flesh of my palm.

“It is hard, Felicity,” he replies, his dark eyes filled with sadness.

I nod, conceding to that, yet find I cannot face him when he stares at me so. “It is hard for me, too,” I reply.

“I’ve missed you,” he said quietly to me then.

I turned around then, quickly, for I could not believe the words which came forth from his lips. “Have you?” I asked him, my eyes misting over.

He nodded. “Yes. It is not easy to be so in love with someone, and hate an action they committed so badly.”

I nodded back at him. “Yes. Yes, that is exactly how I feel, Wilhelm.”

My husband smiles at me then. “Well, I do suppose that we can move past this eventually, Felicity,” he puts in, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing it, far more sweetly than he did earlier. “I forgive you,” he tells me then. “It is Christmas, and Albert says I must forgive you, even if you cannot forgive me...”

I brush away the notion that the prince knew what I did, and the realization that Wilhelm forgave me, for it was not the time. “I’ve forgiven you,” I inform him then, and his eyes lock to mine.

“You’ve forgiven me?” he asks.

I find I am smiling at him. “Yes. When Harriet was born, for I knew we had to be all right if we created such a beautiful thing,” I tell him then. “I found I could no longer resent your decision-making in not telling me about your true parentage, for I know now that you did so to protect me.”

My husband stiffened at the seriousness of my words. “I said as much when you informed me of knowledge of it,” Wilhelm said.

I nodded at him, relieved that he has not released my hand, feeling comfort and joy in the physical contact from him that was of his own free will and not from an ancient sense of duty. “I know it,” I reply then, the tears falling freely from my eyes then. “And I am sorry I did not understand as much at the time... It was such a trying day, Wilhelm... I’d only just lost the child...”

“And you witnessed Edward’s saving of Sir Robert Peel,” Wilhelm said then, his eyes darkening with sorrow then as he pulled me into his arms, just holding me. “I know we hurt one another, Felicity, and I know full well you would have done something to stop it if you could. I am so sorry that I left you to deal with all our misfortunes on your own,” he tells me.

“Your knuckles were bleeding... At that first dinner...that night...”

Wilhelm pulled back from me then, shock in his face as I revealed my knowledge of this to him. “What?” he whispered.

“When you came to fetch me for dinner, I merely took your arm and we walked there together,” I said quietly. “Victoria had me sit beside her that evening, in between her and Wilhelmina, and you with Prince Albert... Your knuckles were bleeding,” I say, shuddering at the thought.

My husband looks utterly pained at my revelation. “I needed some physical pain myself that day,” he tells me, lowering his eyes. “After your loss of the child, you couldn’t have been feeling altogether well...”

I shook my head then, gently reaching out then and taking ahold of his cheeks, which I raise upwards. “Whether or not I was in pain should have had no bearing on yours,” I tell him. “You lied to protect me. I lied to protect myself—”

“And to keep our marriage pure—”

“Our marriage could not be pure if I kept that one indiscretion secreted away,” I tell him, revulsion in my voice. “I spoke with Ernest about it, merely to tell him not to tell Harriet... I would not wish to end my friendship with her due to my momentary lapse in judgement...”

“I cannot say I am pleased that you found an opportunity to speak with Ernest, but I can understand your desire to preserve your friendship with Harriet.”

I feel my eyes fill with tears again, lowering my eyes. “He informed me of why he cannot be with Harriet,” I told him.

“Because of the King of Belgium’s insistence?” Wilhelm asked.

“No,” I reply, looking up at him then. “Ernest informed me that he had a disease, which makes him wary of marriage and an inability to have children...”

“A disease?” Wilhelm wanted to know, looking me up and down. “Dear God, please tell me he didn’t—”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “No, for some reason, I did not get it,” I inform him then, my fear of the subject diminishing. “He explained that it would have involved sores and a rash, but since I did not get it—and it was so long ago—that perhaps I will not get it. Perhaps I shall be safe from it all, Wilhelm, although I do understand if you do not...”

Wilhelm smiled down upon me. “I have forgiven you, have I not?” he wanted to know then, his arms fasting about my waist. “If God has willed your safety, he has also willed my forgiveness to you. I shall not waver in my servitude towards Him, nor my vows to you.”

“And neither shall I,” I reply. “Neither shall I, Wilhelm. Never again shall I allow any other man near me.”

Wilhelm looked around then, leaning down and brushing his lips with mine, sending warmth throughout my body. “We still have some time before supper,” he informed me in a soft voice. “Perhaps we should proceed to expand our family a bit more, now that it is the season of forgiveness...”

I bite my lip and lower my eyes. “Ah, well,” I said then, “actually, I considered giving you your Christmas present early...”

“Did you now?” Wilhelm asked.

I raised my eyes to his then, taking his hands from about my waist and placing them upon my midsection. “The physicians confirmed it yesterday, but you were out and about with His Royal Highness,” I said quietly.

Wilhelm grinned then, dropping to his knees and kissing my stomach. “When shall this wonderful child be born?” he asks, looking up at me.

“The summer,” I reply.

Wilhelm got to his feet, taking my face gently into his hands and kissing me. “I could not have asked for a better wife.”

“But what of all I’ve done?” I whispered then.

He smiled. “We are mutually imperfect, Felicity,” he replied. “I would have not asked for any other life.”

I find I feel absolutely safe when he pulls me back into his arms. “Neither would I, Wilhelm,” I reply. “Neither would I.”

A knock upon the door startles us then, and I feel a slight ache within me as Wilhelm smiles and releases me then. He crosses the room to the door, opening it to reveal a servant, carrying a hat box. He lets out a chuckle then, looking it over for a moment.

“Everything is in order?” he asks the man.

“Yes, my lord duke,” the man replies.

“Good, good,” Wilhelm says, taking the box from the man. “I thank you,” he tells him, handing over some gold coins before shutting the door behind him and approaching me with the box, which he places on the table before me.

I blink. “What is this?”

“You have given me your Christmas present, Felicity, and now I shall give you mine,” Wilhelm replies.

I find I give him a rather odd look then before taking ahold of the scarlet ribbon holding the box together, before pulling it and lifting the lid off from the box. I let out a gasp at the shock of black fur, and for a moment I believe that Wilhelm has gifted me with a furred cap, but it suddenly lets out a little yowl at the notion that light has impeded on its slumber and gets to its feet, looking around, its dark eyes darting around the room and its tail coming to life. “Oh, my!” I cry out, instantly leaning down and lifting the little thing from the box.

“It is a Schipperke,” Wilhelm informs me proudly as I take note of the triangle-shaped ears, which stand right on end. “It shall be another girl for us.”

“A girl dog,” I whisper, kissing its little face as the pup yawns ever so slightly, settling into my arms. “Oh, Wilhelm... I love her,” I whisper.

“And what name shall you decide for her, my darling?”

“Frieda,” I reply then, nodding to myself. “Frieda Wilhelmina Marquardt,” I say fondly as I scratch her behind her ears. “Frieda, for Alfred; Wilhelmina for our dear friend who bears that name, and Marquardt for us.”

Wilhelm smiles. “What have you been up to, Felicity?”

I raise my eyes to his. “At this moment, Alfred is proposing marriage to our dear Wilhelmina,” I reply, and rush to finish as Wilhelm moves to interrupt me. “She loves him, Wilhelm, and Alfred now understands that there a different kinds of love. I do declare that he, as a final gift, shall be giving her the ring I gave him earlier...”

“A ring? What ring?” Wilhelm asks.

“The one with the blue stone that Wilhelmina loved,” I reply. “I realize that the Duchess of Kent gifted it to me during our months at Kensington Palace, but blue was a color that never suited me. I’ll doubt she’ll remember it,” I tell him with a quick smile. “I wore it often enough around her and she never breathed a word about it. Just another thing she cast off after she knew herself to be the mother of the next Queen of England.”

“Albert wants to heal their rift, you know,” Wilhelm put in as I stroked Frieda’s fur in an absentminded manner. “We all believed it to be healed after Princess Vicky’s birth, but it seems as if the Duchess of Kent is not to be forgiven so easily...”

“She is a force to be reckoned with, Victoria,” I reply, shaking my head. “I only wish that the memory of Lehzen can be forgotten completely...”

“Not all memories can, Felicity,” Wilhelm replies, and my eyes snap to his. “They shall always remain, my love. Some must be forgiven, while others shall merely linger on until the end of time.”


End file.
